And I'm Paralyzed :Waycest:
by Smokii
Summary: Gerard Way doesn't know what's happening to him. Well, he knows, but he doesn't want to admit it. What he wants is unnatural, what he wants is wrong, what he wants is illegal and sick, he hates himself for it, but what he wants is his little brother.
1. Silence

Gerard:

At this point, it was utter agony. It seemed that some horrendous being was out to make my entire life utter agony. At one point that seemed so long ago, things were simpler. I was still me, he was still him, but that need to be an individual wasn't quite as strong in me, and I looked and acted more socially acceptable. But now, socially acceptable was some distant figment of imagination, for no part of my life could be acceptable to anyone now. Not the way I have twisted it.

What a word to describe a person like me. Twisted. No longer of normal shape and wholesomeness. I am glad, at least, he still remains pure, not dark and tainted like I have become. I now strive to oppose what others do, I want to be what no one else would dare be. I already have that covered, in one sense. I have dared to want and lust after what no person of normal standards, what no human born and raised under a loving, natural, normal family like my own, would ever dare to want.

Not that it matters. I have my own ways of dealing with my problems, I choose to stay away from temptation, to stay away from fate. I do not like that he blames himself here. I do not like that we used to be so close, and now I must isolate myself from him, my problem, my addiction. He is worse to me than a banquet to a starving man, then anti-venom to a dieing victim. I am his victim, though I don't believe he could ever understand it like that.

"Gerard, dinner!" my mother, Donna, calls down the basement stairs, pulling me out of my revery. I hate when I have too much time to think, because it gets me to thinking about what I am doing with my life, and how, at any moment, I could destroy his. I wince and get up to go up the stairs and greet my mother, father, and brother for dinner. My routine never varies: get up, shower, dress, go to school, come home, do homework, hide in my room, come out for dinner, return to hiding.

For a while, I even managed to fast, though my mother noticed soon enough and started forcing me to join my family for a meal every night. The way she put it was reasonable. In return for her allowing me to spend my entire life a recluse in my room, I had to eat one meal at our tiny wooden four-seated table, sitting directly across from him.

At this point, Michael had given up attempting to pry answers from me, when we were younger, I could never hold out against his pout. But now, after a year of that same routine, seeing him no more than I had too, it took a lot to make me feel emotions. In essence, I was a corpse. I did feel one thing, though. The one feeling I wish I didn't feel, the one feeling that would make my life so much easier if I lived without it.

I join my family at the table, the usual awkward silence accompanies me. The room always get tensely quiet when I enter, as though my family hope, or wish, I were to just break down and explain my recent behavior to them. As much as the thought appeals to me, I couldn't ever tell anyone, especially not my family, what was wrong.

Mom served out pasta, as was our dinner, my portion considerably smaller than the remainder of my family's, even Michael, who was skinny for a boy his age. I don't eat much, unless I have too. The sensation displeases me.

I keep my eyes fixed on my plate as I spear a noodle, lifting it to my mouth and grimacing before placing the fork in my mouth. I can feel his eyes on my as I chew. He usually doesn't look at me. He is smart, and he has learned it will get him no where with me anymore.

Quite suddenly, I feel something brush my foot. I realize it is his, but contrary to him purposely doing this, as soon as he feels the contact, he emits a squeak and pulls his foot away immediately. I never take my gaze off my plat as another noodle makes it's way to my lips. I know my mother and father are staring at him. I hear them ask him what is wrong.

He says nothing, that something startled him, that's all.

It occurs to me that we haven't had physical contact, hugs or even an arm or leg brushing against each other, in nearly a year. Could the time gap be the reason I lust for it? But my own restriction on frivolous things like that also play a role in my feelings, I think.

The rest of our dinner passes in that same awkward silence. It only occurs to me to wonder what he set in that brief second that caused him to emit such a noise. Could he possibly know? I didn't see how that was possible, but I also know that he would tell me as soon as he thought something like that.

Then, our relationship certainly isn't what it used to be.


	2. Speaking

Gerard:

At this point, it was utter agony. It seemed that some horrendous being was out to make my entire life utter agony. At one point that seemed so long ago, things were simpler. I was still me, he was still him, but that need to be an individual wasn't quite as strong in me, and I looked and acted more socially acceptable. But now, socially acceptable was some distant figment of imagination, for no part of my life could be acceptable to anyone now. Not the way I have twisted it.

What a word to describe a person like me. Twisted. No longer of normal shape and wholesomeness. I am glad, at least, he still remains pure, not dark and tainted like I have become. I now strive to oppose what others do, I want to be what no one else would dare be. I already have that covered, in one sense. I have dared to want and lust after what no person of normal standards, what no human born and raised under a loving, natural, normal family like my own, would ever dare to want.

Not that it matters. I have my own ways of dealing with my problems, I choose to stay away from temptation, to stay away from fate. I do not like that he blames himself here. I do not like that we used to be so close, and now I must isolate myself from him, my problem, my addiction. He is worse to me than a banquet to a starving man, then anti-venom to a dieing victim. I am his victim, though I don't believe he could ever understand it like that.

"Gerard, dinner!" my mother, Donna, calls down the basement stairs, pulling me out of my revery. I hate when I have too much time to think, because it gets me to thinking about what I am doing with my life, and how, at any moment, I could destroy his. I wince and get up to go up the stairs and greet my mother, father, and brother for dinner. My routine never varies: get up, shower, dress, go to school, come home, do homework, hide in my room, come out for dinner, return to hiding.

For a while, I even managed to fast, though my mother noticed soon enough and started forcing me to join my family for a meal every night. The way she put it was reasonable. In return for her allowing me to spend my entire life a recluse in my room, I had to eat one meal at our tiny wooden four-seated table, sitting directly across from him.

At this point, Michael had given up attempting to pry answers from me, when we were younger, I could never hold out against his pout. But now, after a year of that same routine, seeing him no more than I had too, it took a lot to make me feel emotions. In essence, I was a corpse. I did feel one thing, though. The one feeling I wish I didn't feel, the one feeling that would make my life so much easier if I lived without it.

I join my family at the table, the usual awkward silence accompanies me. The room always get tensely quiet when I enter, as though my family hope, or wish, I were to just break down and explain my recent behavior to them. As much as the thought appeals to me, I couldn't ever tell anyone, especially not my family, what was wrong.

Mom served out pasta, as was our dinner, my portion considerably smaller than the remainder of my family's, even Michael, who was skinny for a boy his age. I don't eat much, unless I have too. The sensation displeases me.

I keep my eyes fixed on my plate as I spear a noodle, lifting it to my mouth and grimacing before placing the fork in my mouth. I can feel his eyes on my as I chew. He usually doesn't look at me. He is smart, and he has learned it will get him no where with me anymore.

Quite suddenly, I feel something brush my foot. I realize it is his, but contrary to him purposely doing this, as soon as he feels the contact, he emits a squeak and pulls his foot away immediately. I never take my gaze off my plat as another noodle makes it's way to my lips. I know my mother and father are staring at him. I hear them ask him what is wrong.

He says nothing, that something startled him, that's all.

It occurs to me that we haven't had physical contact, hugs or even an arm or leg brushing against each other, in nearly a year. Could the time gap be the reason I lust for it? But my own restriction on frivolous things like that also play a role in my feelings, I think.

The rest of our dinner passes in that same awkward silence. It only occurs to me to wonder what he set in that brief second that caused him to emit such a noise. Could he possibly know? I didn't see how that was possible, but I also know that he would tell me as soon as he thought something like that.

Then, our relationship certainly isn't what it used to be.


	3. A Quiet Desperation

Gerard:

I lay back on the bed, panting hard. There was dried blood on my arms and sweat beading on my forehead. Tears streamed out of my eyes, because it had been impossible to fight this time. The release the cutting offered had been too much, and I had taken the razor to my skin once more. There were just a series of long scars, though on the soft flesh of the underside of my elbow joint, his initials were carved. It was a very inconspicuous place, and I hoped he wouldn't ever find it.

I had talked to him. With words. Out of my mouth. I had spoken to him, after a year or more of silence, it had been broken. Unfortunately, another problem had appeared as my lips had brushed Mikey's forehead. I hated myself because of what that simple contact did to my body, I hated that after so long without touching myself, my eightteen-year-old's testosterone levels were through the roof, and that little brush had set me off.

It had been so long, in fact, I didn't really know what to do anymore. In the end, I had figured it out, and I was left with red and white stains on my sheets. It took a moment and a lot of willpower, but I finally sat up and managed to pull my pants up. I turned to my stained bed and used my good arm to rip the sheets off, throwing them into a pile in the corner of my bedroom. Before I went to retrieve clean sheets, I cleansed my arms of the dried blood and cum.

As I finished, I dried my arm gingerly, trying to avoid re-opening the cuts. Once I was done, I returned to my room quickly, grabbing a hoodie and pulling it over my head. The long arms and bagginess made me much more comfortable, and I headed up the stairs. Most unfortunately for me, our linen closet was on the top floor, which meant I had to walk past Mikey's room. I hoped his door was closed. But of course, it was open. He saw me shuffling past his room, my head down.

"Gee!" He called, making me freeze. I hadn't heard that nickname in so long. I felt his body heat and his arm close around my wrist. My left wrist, the one I cut. A gasp of pain escaped me, and I looked up and him before desperately trying to free my hand, which only aggravated the cuts more. If I wasn't careful, they'd start bleeding again.

Seeing my distress, Mikey let go of my wrist. "Did you cut yourself?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

I looked away, studying the floor before approaching the linen closet, fumbling with the cabinet, and pulling out fresh sheets. I kept my eyes away from him, too afraid to see disappointment in his. There was a quiet moment before Michael sighed and shook his head, returning to his room and shutting the door.

I was curled up in my bed, thinking now. As much as I hated to admit in, the act of pleasuring myself to him earlier could only mean my lust for him was growing. I felt as though fate were out to get me, for, how could I be in love with my brother? Why couldn't I fall for someone else, anyone else, but instead I go for the one boy who is, beyond others, completely unobtainable, and also everything I'd every want.

I hated myself. I hated myself so much I began to cry softly. I knew he'd be able to hear, out air vents are connected, but I hoped by this time of night, he was asleep by now. Every now and then, weak sobs would escape me as my mind admitted what a monster I was. Even though I tried so hard to be attracted to other human beings, it never worked. He was my worst possible need, worse than the nicotine in my cigarettes. Worse than any imaginable want. And, I think, the thing that upset me most wasn't that I thought of him that way, it was more because I could never have him.

I fell into a fitfully light sleep, and woke up screaming. This isn't unusual for me, it happens all the time when I think of Michael before I sleep. I never know why I scream. Maybe because my dreams are swirling abyss's of fear and sorrow, maybe because I'm waking up to my reality. I don't think I'll ever know, really.

Mikey:

The next day we had no school, and though I was honestly hoping Gerard would communicate with me now, I suppose I shouldn't have wasted effort hoping for that. We spoke once, but that doesn't erase a year's worth of silence. Whatever his reasons, he won't speak to me. I just wish he knew it hurt me to hear my brother wake up screaming every morning. I wonder if he knows I still care for him. Even after a year of being completely ignored, I still count him as my brother, my family, and family look out for each other. Well, Gerard isn't in a situation where he can look out for anyone. He can't even look out for himself. I really wish I could see in his head, I wish I knew the motives, the reasons he does what he does. Life just isn't that simple, I suppose.

I picked up a pad of paper and began to draw idly, trying to escape the intense thoughts for once. My room was utterly silent, so I turned on some medium-loud Smashing Pumpkins and tried to escape thoughts of my demented brother.

It even seemed to be working when I heard a knock on my door and his soft voice, one I was so unused to, say, "M-mikey?"


	4. I'm Sorry

Gerard:

I really couldn't believe I was doing this. I wanted things to be my version of normal, when I'm ignoring him and he's ignoring me. Why was I risking everything I'd built over the past year on an impulse. Why was I standing here, preparing to knock and ask for entrance. Preparing to take back the vow of silence. Could I really do this? Did I have the courage to speak to my little brother, my demise?

I raised a fist and rapped on the door, calling his name quietly. I hoped his music was too loud for him to hear me. I hoped he would just ignore me. But of course, he doesn't.

"Gerard? Is that you? You can- uh, come in, I guess..." Mikey's voice called from behind the door.

I was trembling so hard I almost didn't hear him. I was more scared than I'd ever been in my entire life at the prospect of being in a small room alone with him. I was scared of what I might do. Trying and failing to be brave, I grabbed the doorknob and twisted it, stepping inside.

It had been a very long time since I'd been in this room. The walls were gray, covered in various band posters and pictures of Michael and his friends. I noticed he kept the ones of us when we were younger up. I felt like crying. It had been so long since we'd been close, and obviously my withdrawal from his life hadn't gone unnoticed. He even seemed to have missed me. It made my heart ache.

It was silent for a moment, I closed the door and stepped farther into his room, though it remained silent. Mikey stared into my eyes, a curious emotion swimming in his, causing the hairs on the back of my neck to rise slightly.

"Well..." Mikey began, "What did you want?"

I sighed and thought over the speech I'd prepared for him, "Listen, Mikey, I'm sorry about just forgetting about you like that for so long. We were really close, and I love you, but I was going through some tough shit, I still am, and I don't like that it causes you pain to not be as close to me anymore. I think that, maybe, for you, I can try and get close to you again, because we were so, you know, affectionate growing up. It's... really hard to explain, but, I'd like to try and be, uh, friends again, if that's okay..."

Mikey stared at me for a long time. He seemed to be mulling over all I'd just said to him. After a seemingly endless silence, he whispered, "Why did you do this in the first place? What did I do?"

"Nothing! You didn't do anything...but, uhm, it's a bit, uh, uncomfortable for me to talk about. Lets just say I was having some... emotional problems, and I dealt with them the wrong way. I'd like if we could be brothers again."

I liked how he smiled when I said that, "I'd like that too, Gee. Can I... hug you?"

My eyebrows knit together. Was I ready to feel Mikey's body pressed against mine? I didn't think so. I'd get hard in the least, and I really didn't need to do that explaining. I shook my head. Michael looked upset, and I saw emotions clashing in his eyes, self-loathing among them. He was angry with himself.

"It isn't your fault, I just...I, uh, I'm sore... I kind of fell down the stairs on the way up here..." I mumbled.

He could tell I was lying, and I knew it upset him I wasn't being honest, but he didn't push me, just giving a curt nod.

"Was there anything else you wanted to do?" he asked quietly, his eyes never leaving mine. I swallowed nervously. Anything else _wanted_ do? If only he knew. Shoving these thoughts away, I glanced back at him and shrugged.

Mikey looked conflicted for a moment before nodding, "Thank you, Gee. Thank you for trying to fix this."

I smiled before turning, opening his door, and escaping down the two flights of stairs to my dungeon.

The Next Day

Mikey:

My Saturdays were usually spent anywhere but at home, but today I was desperately plotting a way to pick the lock on Gerard's door. I wanted to wake him up and have arguments and wrestle around like we used too, even though things wouldn't be the same for a long time, if ever.

I finally got a paperclip, unbent it, and managed to undo several of the latches, though I still had a few to go. I never figured out why he used so many, but I think it was to deter break-ins. Which is sorta what I'm doing right now... but...

After a couple of frantic jiggling of the paperclip around in the final lock, it clicked and I carefully pulled it open, leaving it ajar and proceeding to his bedside. Gerard was curled in his bed, his body in a ball shape and his mouth open. He looked so much more peaceful asleep than he ever did in the waking world.

Unconsciously, I reached out and touched his face. His eyelids twitched and opened, and a gasp escaped him.

"W-what are you doing in here?" he mumbled. I knew if Gerard was more awake, he'd have been furious. For now I took advantage of it.

Thinking, I spouted off the first thing that came to mind, "I, uh, wanted to see you... sleep?"

Gerard smiled, and suddenly grabbed my wrist, pulling me close so our faces were mere inches apart, "How sweet of you." It was about this point I realized he must be doped on sleeping medicine, because he leans up and pecks my lips before shoving me away from him and growling, "And get out of my room."

Utterly confused, I stumbled towards his door and and wrenched it open before running upstairs as fast as I could go.


	5. So Right

Gerard:

Groggily, I opened my eyes to the darkness I had fallen asleep too. But, then, in my room, measuring time by light is never a good idea. I look at my clock. Harsh neon digital numbers tell me it is half past three in the afternoon. I decide it is time for me to do something with my life.

I get up and head to the bathroom across the hall from my room, quickly showering and dressing. I shake out my hair in a rather dog-like fashion before throwing my towel back on the hanger and proceeding upstairs.

Surprise is etched into my mother's face as I emerge from the basement. She is used to me staying down there all weekend, apart from dinners. I've hardly been out of my room over the past year, of course she's shocked.

"Hello, sweetheart. Feeling alright?" she asks, putting her hand on my forehead.

I roll my eyes and remove her hand from my face, "Honestly, Mom, I'm fine."

I walk out into our living room, where Michael is reading something on his laptop. I lean over him, reading a bit of the article:

"_In some cases, the couples have been separated. Incestuous activities are prohibited by law, and often result in family feuds and splits in families. This type of behavior, though often dismissed as simple affection, ends worse than if the siblings involved hated each other. Often, the incestuous feelings are only felt by one member of the family towards another. If you think you may be dealing with an incestuous family member, please call..."_

My insides froze. How could he possibly know? I felt my heart rate increase. He was reading this so he could tell someone. So he could have me taken away. Trying my best to regain composure, I took a couple of steps back and made my footfalls loud as I approached the couch again. This time, he snapped the laptop shut and looked up at me.

I rubbed my eyes and st down next to him, "Hey, what's up?"

"N-not much... uh, Gerard, do you remember anything funny about today?" he asked quietly, not meeting my eyes.

I stared at him for a moment, not recalling what he was talking about, "Not really. I just woke up, Michael, not much to remember, unless you're asking if I dreamed."

Mikey met my eyes at last, "I...Don't hate me, Gee, but I kind of snuck into your room, and you woke up... and... you... kissed me."

I just stared at him, my mouth and eyes wide. There was a long, long silence, before, "W-what? I... how could I have kissed you, I was asleep!"

"You were asleep, and you were doped up an sleeping medication when I came in, and... I don't know if you did it on purpose, b-but you did kiss me. Then you told me to get out of your room, and I'm guessing you fell back asleep..."

My composure slipped once more. I'd kissed him? An actual kiss? Obviously, He'd been scared shitless by it, but I wondered if I could still taste him. Trying to be discreet about it, I passed my tongue over my lips. Sure enough, there was a faint taste of sweetness, the essence of Mikey Way. I shuddered, and looked back at him, "Mikes, I'm sorry. I wasn't in my right mind, like you said, I was doped up. I didn't mean it!"

My voice had sounded desperate. I didn't want him to hate me for a kiss I don't even remember giving him. Yet Mikey stared at me with some unknown emotion in his eyes.

"Didn't you mean it, though, Gerard? I don't need your shit, okay? Tell me the fucking truth, for once. If you ever decide to tell me what I already know, you know where I am." He stood, his laptop in hand, and stormed up the stairs.

As soon as he was out of sight, I broke down, sobbing hard. As soon as I'd gathered myself, I stumbled past my mom and half fell down the stairs, my eyes blurred by tears. I got to my room, sobbing frantically and collapsing onto my bed.

I hated myself. I hated my life. I hated everything at this moment. Most of all, I hated that he was my brother, and that he hated me.

Mikey:

As soon as I got to my room, I realized what a mistake I had made. I could hear him sobbing downstairs, and then him getting up, almost falling down the basement stairs before reaching his room, slamming the door and sobbing more. I realized I may have ruined his whole life. I had been angry because of a suspicion I hadn't confirmed, and I'd upset him.

I decided to sneak downstairs and try to talk to him. I made my way out of my room and down the stairs until I was in front of his doorway. I knelt, my ear pressed against the door. I heard absolute silence, then his voice.

"This is all my fault. I deserve to die. No, he's right, I'm a stupid-" his voice was cut of by a yelp of pain "fucked up" another yelp "bastard."

He was panting, "My blood...isn't worthy."

What was he doing? Cutting himself, that's what Gerard did when life got to be too much.

He whispered my name. And then a stream of obscenities. I wondered exactly why he did this. If he was innocent, maybe he was upset because I had accused him like I did.

His room was dead silent. I pressed my ear more firmly against the door, listening. I could hear the faint patting of a towel on skin. He must be soaking up the blood.

Gerard said my name again, only this time there was something else entirely in his tone. Rather than self-loathing and sorrow, there was desire when he said my name.

"Ohh, Mikey. Baby, why do you have to be so right...?"


	6. Truth

Mikey:

No. I had to have heard him wrong. I didn't believe I was right. How could Gerard love me? How could he feel for me in a way no brothers should ever feel for each other?

The truth was, it all made sense. I had never managed to get a confession from him pertaining to why he forgot the existence of his family for an entire year. Could it have been because he loved me? Did it really make sense to accuse him, though?

I knew he was gay, that was one of the last things he'd shared with me before our divide. But I had been under the impression he had feelings for one of his friends, not his own brother. How can he love me in that way? We have the same blood, the same last name!

But the idea didn't seem that wrong. Sure, it was sorta illegal and stuff, and the thought of swapping spit with my brother repulsed me, but the idea of him loving me isn't that scary, just a little senseless. I still don't really understand how a person like him can love a person like me.

I knocked on his door, standing up straight. I heard the room go silent, but he didn't open the door this time. I called through it, "Gee? I'm sorry. I don't care if you love me like that, your still my brother."

It was silent for five long minutes before he whispered from behind the door, "No, Michael, you're right. I'm a monster for loving you like I do. A terrible monster who deserves to die slowly. Your hatred makes me feel better because I know you hate me almost as much as I hate myself."

"Please let me in."

The door cracked, and I saw him scrutinize me warily before opening it all the way. I stepped inside, and he snapped the door closed and locked it. At first it scared me, but then I saw his room and I realized why. There were several bloody towels sitting in the corner, along with the sheets stripped from his bed.

I looked at his arms. One of them looked fine, his right, and his left looked ragged. Dried blood was smeared up his arm, and long gashes were just starting to crust over by now. I stared, but Gerard moved his arm behind him.

"I make you do that?" I asked. I didn't like him ripping open his flesh because he was stressed out.

Gerard's beautiful hazel eyes opened wide, "Oh, no! I do this because I deserve the pain, and because I know I'm a disgustingly twisted freak. It isn't your fault... It's not your fault I'm in love with you..."

I swallowed nervously and kept my eyes trained carefully down. Everything was changing so fast, from the awkward silences that followed us, to Gerard speaking to me, and now I knew he loved me more than he should. I was so confused.

"Why are you in love with me, though, Gerard?" I asked quietly.

He sighed heavily, going to go sit on his bed with his head down, "Because you're you. You're geeky and shy and you be yourself and you make perverted puns and when we were younger you used to leave mini snickers bars on my bed when you knew I was having a bad day, and you cared so much, and you cried when I stopped talking to you. I love you because you don't have the capacity to be mean to people you love, and I love you because you don't lie to me, and I love you because you're the sweetest person in the world, and I love you because you still scream for me when you see a spider, and I love you because you pull on my hair until you get me to scream just so you know I feel pain, too. I love you because you're addicted to coffee and because nothing matters to you, no one matters to you, except the people who you love and care for. I love you because you're insecure and because you don't realize how amazing and beautiful you are. I love you because I can't tell you you are beautiful, but I think it every second of every day. I love you because you're you, and you'll never change for anyone."

Silent tears were streaming down his face as he told me everything. Every reason I had never expected to hear tumble out of his mouth, was now reality. I whispered his name.

Gerard raised his head and stared into my eyes, fear, desire, pain, and sorrow melding there. We just stared at each other for a long time, and I went to sit by him, wrapping my arms around his body loosely. Gerard emitted a sad noise, "Why don't you hate me now?"

I shake my head and gently pull his head down to rest on my shoulder. He relaxed almost instantly.

"I could never hate you, Gerard. This isn't your fault, no matter how much you want to blame yourself. It isn't your fault you feel attraction to me. I can see you're suffering. It's not as if you enjoy feeling these things for me, or I may be mad at you. I... I don't know why I reacted the way I did earlier, probably because I was scared for you, and scared for me. I just want you to know, even if I don't feel the same way, I want to be closer to you, and I won't act any different. This is probably just a crush, or something, Gee, you'll get over it, I'm sure."

He didn't look at me, "But what if I ended up getting drunk and doing something terrible? I- I can't stand this. You should hate me like I hate myself. I know you said you don't care, and that just makes me love you more, but I feel like it is my fault and I should hurt for what I'm doing..."

I tightened my grip on him. I somehow had ingrain it into his mind that this wasn't his fault. I needed him, as a brother, to stop hurting himself. I needed to convey to him that this would probably blow over, and that things could go back to normal.

That was what I really wanted. Things to be normal. Not his version of normal, where neither of us speaks a word to each other, but my version, where we are brothers again, and we see movies together, and make fun of fat people who fall over in the park. Those kind of brothers, the kind so close that one waits outside the bathroom, pacing, so they can get back to playing once the one in the bathroom is finished.

Of course, we were to old for that now, but I wished with all my heart Gerard would fall for some cute guy who he isn't related to and they get married, and I can return to being his annoying little brother who he loves, but not in any way other than friendship.

There was the other possibility, of course, though I was hoping it wouldn't happen. Gerard could get totally hung up on me, then realize he can never have me because we are brothers and I am straight, and then blow his brain against the wall like he's been thinking about doing the past few months. I can't let him die.

Gerard sits up and sighs quietly, looking at me sadly, "I'm so sorry I dragged you into my world of misery and sorrow. You deserve a girl who can produce children for you and love you properly. A girl who isn't broken and full of half-emotions and paranoia. A girl who would love you and be allowed to love you. A girl who isn't me."

I hate that he does this. He thinks the reason I don't love him back is because he isn't worthy, when really its the two major reasons listed above (if you missed it, we're brothers, and I'm straight.)

There really seemed to be no way to convince Gerard he was an awesome person, too. He just needed to learn to be less afraid of people. That's one of the things he always said he admired in me.

Gerard:

I like the night. It gives me a time when, rather than being forced to do one or the other, I have a choice of whether or not to think about my life. Right now, I distract myself by watching a young black cat lope across the intersection. She stops in the middle of the road, looks both ways, and keeps going.

I've never understood cats. They are mysterious creatures that have minds and reasons of their own. Everything a cat does seems to make sense in the mind of the cat, because theses are clever creatures that tend to get their way.

I wish I was a cat, a creature capable of fleeing its problems and curling itself into a tiny ball when afraid. I think it'd be nice to have the claws, too, but that isn't the real reason why. Cats are the creatures who survive in the wild most often. Cats are the creatures that stalk and pounce. But enough about that, they are just tiny animals I am jealous of, but I also admire.

The black cat reached the other side of the street, when, without warning, a massive dog appears from the shadows. It leaps for the cat. While the dog is bid and clumsy, the cat is lean and agile, and if she had listened to her flight instincts, she would have evaded the creature's attack. Instead, she tried to fight it, but was quickly engulfed in the creatures jaws.

I felt the tears come as the dog broke her spine and shook the cat's lifeless body back and forth. What kind of world was this, where an innocent creature is killed with no mercy by a creature so much stronger than itself. Was this a sign? Could it mean I would fall to the emotions I was so helpless too? Would these feelings I wasn't supposed to be feeling be the end of me?

Of course. The very reality I had come outside to escape seemed keen on following me and forcing me to face it. I couldn't run from this. But what would I do now that he not only knew, but had accepted the fact? What if he let it slip to our mother? They wouldn't spare me, I'd be off to military school or some shit like that, and I don't think I'd survive that long in a place like that without him.

The dog had dropped the cat's body and retreated. Tears still blurring my eyes, I walked across the street, picked up the tiny, ravaged body, and headed deep into the trees to bury the tiny life.


	7. Lust

Mikey:

I convinced my mom to let me stay home from school the next day, even though it was Monday. I had an idea, and I was going to spend the day trying to see if it would work. I was curious to how much Gerard was affected by my presence, and my touch. I wasn't going to do anything, just tease him a little to see how much he really wanted me.

Hey, I never claimed to be a good little boy, did I?

Mom went off to work about an hour after Gerard left for school, and Dad was already gone when we woke up, so I was left alone. Alone to plot my not so innocent scheme...

Gerard:

I fell asleep twice in class, but made my way through this Monday. As the last bell rang and the students around me fled the building, I gathered myself and walked back to my house. This would be the first time Mikey and I would be truly alone since I'd shared my secret with him, and I wasn't anticipating it. Hopefully, we could just avoid each other like we did before. I was tired, and I didn't feel like testing my limits tonight.

I reached my house, unlocking the door and entering before closing and locking it behind me. Mikey had stayed home today, and I didn't see him as I made my way down the basement stairs to my room. I left the door unlocked, though it was a reflex to lock it, I left it open in case Mikey urgently needed me.

I got out my my papers and stuff and began to work on my homework. It had been less than a half an hour before a soft knock sounded at my door, and Mikey's voice asked, "Can I come in?"

"Sure, Mikes."

The door opened slowly and Mikey stepped inside, closing it behind him. At first I actually thought he was naked, but when he took a step closer to me and I realized he was wearing extremely tight leather pants and a shirt that was two sizes to small. Though I hated to admit it, my pants tightened just looking at him.

I think he noticed, but he said nothing, just pushed his glasses up his nose a little bit.

I swallowed nervously, "W-was there something you w-wanted, Mikey?"

He nodded, and with no warning at all, he strode forward and straddled me. I blushed intensely, feeling myself go from a semi to a full hard-on as he settled his perfect hips onto mine. I felt his lips brush my ear as I fought the urge to moan, "Ya, you."

"M-mikey... you're straight... you- oh Jesus." I broke off mid sentence as he began to grind his hips into mine. A choked gasp escaped me. It felt so good.

But Mikey didn't like me like I liked him, and he didn't like boys. Why was he doing this? Did he hate me? I repeated the thoughts out loud to him.

"Cause I wanted to see your reaction, Gery. I wanted to see how hard I could make you." he purred silkily. Was he still playing his games then?

"Alright," I gasped, "I'm fucking really hard, now p-please go away so I can take care of it."

Smirking, he got up off of me and spread my legs before falling onto his knees and licking the material over my erection. I moaned his name.

Still smirking, he stood, kissed my forehead, and walked out, leaving me in a state of extreme sexual frustration.

Mikey:

I stood outside his door for only five minutes before I heard him moaning my name quietly and the sound of skin sliding over skin as he touched himself. I smiled, because the truth was, I'd gotten sort of hard when I'd been teasing him. Could I be feeling attracted to my brother? I doubted it, I just hadn't touched myself recently, and the friction between our packages set me off.

For some reason I kept my ear pressed to his door as little whimpers and gasps and cuss words and my name spilled from the other side and greeted my ear. I got slightly harder as he moaned my name particularly loudly. Wow, teenagers must have some crazy hormones to get turned on by there _totally unattractive_ brothers whacking off and moaning _their name. _

It's not like I like listening to him out of breath choking out my name and moaning in pleasure. Why would I like that?

I turned away from his door, but not before I'd heard him scream my name as he hit his orgasm.

When I got to my room, I stripped out of the leather pants and put on a more fitting shirt. I hadn't had room for boxers with the tightness of those pants, so I hadn't worn any. As the leather was peeled from my skin, I was left staring at my erection.

_Stupid teenage hormones. Stupid un-attractive brother who happens to scream my name while riding out his orgasm. Stupid lust. Stupid feelings. Stupid, stupid, stupid Mikey._


	8. Don't Leave Me

Mikey:

The next day was one of the most uneventful of my entire life up to the point when I got home from school. I threw my stuff in my room and when downstairs to look for something eatable to consume, finding potato chips and settling on them. I collapsed onto my couch and flicked on our T.V, finding a hot anchorwoman and watching her lips move without registering any noise.

About five minutes later, Gerard got home, slamming the door hard enough to shake the house. I looked up at him, but he was cussing under his breath and growling things like, "Fuck them," and "Only one who can hurt me..."

I called his name, but he ignored me, throwing the door to the basement open and aggressively shut it behind him. He crashed down the stairs and into his room, shouting now about something I couldn't hear.

I hated when got like this. It took him hours and a talk from me to calm down, and even after he did, he was often quite moody afterwords. I waited until the shouting and banging had stopped for a whole ten minutes before going down and standing at his door. I could hear heavy breathing, but nothing else. I wondered what he was doing. I reached forward and twisted the doorknob, slightly surprised when it opened.

I stuck my head inside, "Ger- Oh my god, no!"

He was standing with his back to me, a gun to his head and one finger teasing the trigger. I almost leapt into the room, but he turned and faced me, a look that told me if I came closer he'd pull the trigger. I slipped all the way into his room, closing the door slowly and using a reassuring tone, "G-gerard, come on, there's no reason for this. Please put the gun down."

He just stared at me blankly. It registered in my head there were blood stains on his shirt and dripping down both arms. "Why?" he asked.

"Because, y-you can't kill yourself, please! I need you, y-you're my brother! You can't so this, please. Please, Gerard, put the gun down. You're my best friend and my brother... please..."

His hazel eyes were full of pain, "Why don't you hate me? You should hate me. Why don't you want me dead? Why don't you hate me?"

"Because..." I searched frantically for a reason to make him put the gun down, "because you're my brother and I love you!"

Far from helping him, his eyes flashed angrily and his finger tightened slightly on the trigger, "No you don't."

"I-I do! I do, please, Gee. If you kill yourself, I'll kill myself with the same gun. Won't you stop this, please, for me?" I whimpered, pleading with the resilient death-wish firmly lodged in Gerard's mind.

His shoulders relaxed and he whispered, "No, Mikey, don't kill yourself once I'm gone, I'm not worth it."

I didn't even realize it, but tears were steadily flowing down my face. I forced my voice to be cold, "Gerard, stop. Put the gun down, now. This is stupid. I understand it hurts, but you told me you wouldn't ever intentionally hurt me, and you're threatening to kill yourself. That would hurt me. Do you want me to spend my life locked in my room crying and never losing my virginity or doing anything with anyone because you killed yourself."

Gerard glared at me, casting the gun onto his bed. I ran forward, grabbing it and holding it away from him. I put the gun down as far away from him as possible before walking over to him and hugging him tightly. Some of the blood was still wet, and I'm sure it soaked into my shirt, but it didn't matter.

"Come here," I whispered in his ear. He nodded and followed me as I led him to the bathroom across the hall from his room.

I closed and locked the door, walking over to the tub and plugging the drain before turning up the water as hot as it would go and left it to fill up the tub. "Take off your clothes." I told him.

He obediently stripped his bloody shirt, revealing his even more stained chest. There were long incisions in his shoulders that were apparently where the blood had come from, though I saw some up his left side as well. I didn't know he cut anywhere other than his wrist.

I helped him with his jeans, and he was left in his boxers. I didn't attempt to remove those, turning away so he could remove them himself. I helped him over to the bathtub, as he lowered himself into the hot water, he sighed, a mix of pain from the hot water on his wounds and comfort from the warmth.

Gerard closed his eyes and leaned back. I took his soap and lathered it on a washcloth before taking one of his arms out of the water gently and carefully washing the dried blood from his skin. I proceeded to wash his entire upper body in this manner, appreciative sighs and whispers escaping him every now and then. I'd never thought of myself taking such care of him. I was glad I could prove I loved him, though.

I got considerably more nervous as I ran the washcloth beneath the water over his thighs, biting my lip as I moved it around and along his inner thigh. I felt Gerard's body stiffen, too, and the washcloth brushed his length. He bit down on his lip, blushing lightly. I tried to imagine anything that would keep me from getting hard, but it was too late.

I continued stroking him, but no longer just to wash him. I watched his face contort into one of pleasure and lust as I continued running my fingertips along his shaft.

"Gerard?" I whispered, squeezing him slightly.

He moaned and stuttered a response, "Y-yes, Mikes?"

I took his member in my hand and pumped slowly, causing him to shudder and moan again, "I think I can try to love you back... but I don't know if the feelings are real."

"K-kay. Mikes? Thank for... mm- oh, s-saving me." he whispered, his head fell back on his neck slightly.

I released his length, leaning forward and kissing him on the forehead before pulling my hand out of the water and turning away from him.

He cussed loudly as I left him in the bath in a state of sexual frustration, "You fucking tease!" he screamed after me.

I giggled and headed back up to my room, but not before steeling into his room and taking the gun up with me.


	9. The Picture

Mikey:

"Move over, Ugly." I mumbled, shoving my best friend Frank off of my bed. He fell onto the ground and moaned loudly, but he didn't get up.

"Mikeyyyy, come onnn... You can't leave me on the dirty floor to rot..." he whimpered.

It was Tuesday night, and Frank was spending the night over here. Gee was hiding in his room, working on a picture. I had tried to go down there earlier, but he had told me he couldn't hang out because it was too important. And out of sheer boredom, I'd invited Frank over.

At the moment, I was debating telling him about me and Gerard and our crazy... whatever you would call what we are right now. I knew Frank would understand, he's a good person, but I was afraid he'd find it disgusting.

I took the risk, "Hey Frankie, can I talk to you about something serious?"

His head popped up over the side of my bed, "Sure, Mikey, what?"

I sighed, and Frank scrambled up to sit next to me on the bed, "Well, I... can you promise you won't hate me afterwords? Like, you won't think I'm nasty?"

"Course not, Mikey. You know you can tell me anything." He said, all laughter gone from his expression. He looked utterly serious.

"Well," no going back now, "Gerard is sorta... in love with me. And I think I'm starting to feel the same."

Much to my surprise, Frank emitted a high squeak before hugging me, "Ohmigash, Mikey, that's great! I knew you were bi somewhere deep down! And your own brother! That would make for some hot porn..."

I shoved him off me when he said 'porn', "Whoa, whoa, whoa, I said 'might be starting to feel the same' not 'I want to fuck his brains out.' Geeze, Iero, you're one horny bastard."

"I know!" he said, smiling hugley, "but do you think you two could make out a little in front of me when you get that far?"

"Whatever gets you off, Anthony." I mumbled. How could I think Frank wouldn't be okay with it? He was bi, but preferred boys. I didn't know he had an incest fetish... but, then, I didn't know Gerard had one, either.

I yawned, "Actually, I think I should go tell him I told you, and check on him. He's been slaving over some picture for the past two days, and I'd like to make sure he hasn't passed out." _or worse._

Frank asked if he should come in case we ended up making out, but I assured him he would miss nothing and convinced him to stay up here. After that, I headed downstairs and downstairs again until I was in front of his door. I didn't bother to knock, just threw open the door and strode up to him.

"Hi Gee-bear." I said, leaning over him.

His head snapped up and he quickly covered the picture he'd been working on to look up at me. He smiled, "How's my little whore brother?"

"Yours always, and I'm fine. I'd like to tell you something and know something, if that's okay."

Gerard nodded, so I continued, "Well, I told Frank about us, and-"

"What!" Gerard leaped out of his seat.

I smiled, "Please, let me finish, Gery. Okay, I told him, but he has no problem with it. In fact, he said he wanted to watch us make out when we got there."

Gerard narrowed his eyes, "Are you trying to tell me that you're ready to give me a half-handjob, but not to make out with me?"

I nodded, and he rolled his eyes, sighing, "Alright, Mikes, what did you want to ask?"

"What are you drawing?" I asked.

He cast his hazel eyes to the covered paper, "Oh, you'll see. Nothing of consequence now. Please go entertain your horny friend so I can finish it."

I kissed him gently, feeling him sigh happily beneath my lips, before pulling away and waving to him before slipping out of his room and back to mine.

"So did you guys make out?" Frank asked immediately.

I fell onto the bed next to him, sighing, "Yes, Frank, we had incredible sex for ten minutes and then I decided we had to stop so I could get back up here and entertain you."

"Entertain me, eh?" he smirked before pulling himself on top of me and straddling my thighs, "sounds good, Mikey. Show me how much of a demon you are."

My eyes widened. I must have looked as horrified as I felt because Frank burst into hysterics, falling off of me and gasping for breath. I cracked a smile, though I was still sort of freaked out by the idea of Frank raping me.

"Alright, if you're done scaring the shit out of me, lets go get something to eat, I'm starving."

"Hey, Mikey, where'd you say your brother went?" Frank asked, stuffing another Dorito into his mouth.

I shrugged, "Probably off to Starbucks. He has an obsession with that place. I swear, he masturbates to Starbucks coffee or something... Jesus. No, but he tends to get inspired when he's drinking Starbucks coffee."

"I doubt he masturbates to coffee," Frank mumbled, "Not when he has you to masturbate to."

I glared at him and he laughed.

We were silent for a moment before the door jiggled and was opened. I hoped it would be Gee, but my Mom came through the door, holding her purse and looking spent.

"Hey boys," she called, nodding at Frank as she walked into the kitchen, "Is Gerard here?"

"Who cares?" I called. Gee and I had decided it was best if we remained outwardly silent towards each other so Mom and Dad didn't wonder why after a year we just magically made up.

Mom tutted, but didn't respond. She took out her laptop and started to work in the kitchen. As soon as she was sufficiently distracted, I told Frank to stay where he was and I slunk off to Gerard's room.

When I got down there, I dug through the papers on his desk before finding the one he'd been working on. I unrolled it all the way, and felt my jaw fall open as I saw what he'd been keeping so secret from me.


	10. Killing Mikey

Mikey:

It was amazingly detailed, and the little details were the first thing that captured my attention. It made sense now that he had spent days in his room working on this. The overall picture was a boy crouched on the roof of a temple, only he had wings of the purest white. The rest of the picture was in blacks and grays. Barren trees stood near the temple, and small people stood all around it, gazing at the boy intantly. The temple was crumbling in places, as though it were old.

There was a full moon behind him, casting silvery light onto half of his face. I let my eyes wander to the form of the boy, realizing it was portrayed as me. Or, how he saw me. I noticed there was a cat balanced behind the angel-boy-me, it was black, and seemingly melted into the picture, except for vibrant hazel eyes. This was him.

Behind the temple, skulls were mounted on a pointed fence. One skull had a heart engraved into it and the initials M+G inside it. I felt so warm, even though it was a human skull he'd drawn it on. There were stars, most just flecks, but a couple shone, casting a glow onto the rest of the paper. It was like I was staring at the scene in front of me, as though I was there.

I also noticed some of the people had arrows and pitchforks, but they seemed not to be directed at the angel, but at the cat. The angel was protecting the cat from the persecution of the outside world. My heart throbbed as I realized what this was intended to symbolize. Me protecting him from the scrutiny of society. I knew he struggled socially, but not to the point where he feared people.

It was incredibly beautiful, indescribably so, that he would draw something like this. The fact that Gerard had to depend on anyone was something no one would expect, he was one of those people who kept their problems to themselves, but I felt oddly happy at the thought that he relied on my for some significant part of his life.

I rolled the picture back up and replaced it on his desk, looking around his room once. I noticed another pile of drawings labeled "Mikey" but I decided he wouldn't be pleased if he found me going through his perverted pictures.

Sighing contentedly, I returned to the living room, where Frank was curled up on my couch, drooling all over a pillow. I debated waking him, knowing very well he'd be pissed at me, but I decided he could sleep, sitting down next to him and turning on the T.V.

Gerard:

I sipped idly at my coffee, gazing at the wall as though it held some secret I could unlock with my eyes. I knew he'd sneak down to see it, I wondered if he'd figure it out, and if he did, what he'd think of it. Mikey never seemed to understand I was always a step ahead of him in the game. He thought I'd been careless in leaving the only picture I had that I wouldn't let him see out in the open, when it was all careful planning on my part.

Of course, him being under the delusion that he had cleverly found the picture would be quite interesting, I think. In all honestly, I was anxious to see how this played out. Possibly more anxious than when I admitted to him my feelings were unnatural. Well, the boy is full of surprises. I had been sure then that he would hate me, and it turned out he was developing feelings of his own for me. I didn't even know what to expect this time.

I grabbed my coffee, stood, and left the Starbucks, heading back to my house to see my brother and what he had to say. I was surprised by how cold it was outside, it was August, but... I walked quickly, feeling that feeling you have when you know you're in deep shit, but you don't wanna admit it to yourself.

"So, Way, where are you going on such a nice day? Aren't under the impression you have friends now, are you?" a nasally female voice sounded behind me. I kept walking, trying to push back the fear. I felt a hand close on my wrist and force me down on my knees. I looked up at the stilettos in front of me, up to the tight pants and the tube top to the face of a girl who isn't a girl at all, but a living monster.

She raised a perfectly plucked brown eyebrow at me and tosses her obviously dyed blond hair out, "Anything to say for yourself?"

I respond by attempting to stand. Her heel smashes down into my foot, causing me to cuss and fall back onto my knees. She smiled evilly, "Nothing at all, Gee-Gee? Well, this should be easy then. You know what I want and how to give it to me."

I hissed shortly, not an impressive display against the she-devil herself. Her nails dug into my wrist, and she yanked sharply on my arm, pulling me to my feet. I was at least a head taller than her, and I thought maybe I could take her, but I had to outwit her first.

"Vanessa, I- you know I love you." I exclaim, trying anything to get her to release me long enough for me to draw my knife.

She taps her chin with her index finger, "Hmm, I'll believe you when you purpose, Gerard, honey. Once you're done with this sick obsession with your own brother. Really, Gerard? He isn't even pretty. I don't understand why you waste your time with him when you could have anything you wanted from me."

My body stiffens. I don't understand how she knows about these things, "That isn't any of your concern. Please, a couple more days. Please, Vanessa. You say you love me, then wait. Please wait."

"That isn't acceptable, Gerard. And you know it."

She only has one of my wrists. I quickly use the other to grab the switchblade I had in my pocket, flip it out, and press it against her throat. She looks at me nervously, but then laughs, "As if... As if the knife would hurt me, Gerard. Do you really want to hurt me when I have the capability and the cunning to take what you love most from you?"

I press the knife deeper into the tan skin on her throat, "Is that a threat?"

"You tell me."

And she nimbly escapes my grasp, so quickly I don't see how. In a second, she disappears down a different ally, and then she's gone. Real fear pulses through me. Real fear, because what she said is true. She would have no regrets, feel no guilt, in killing Mikey just to further injure me.


	11. Euphoria

Mikey:

I was woken by someone frantically shaking me. My eye lids fluttered open, and I cast a glance at whoever had aroused me. It was Gerard, staring into my eyes sharply and calling my name.

"Whut...whut? The hell, why are you back? You shouldn't be done masturbating at Starbucks for another hour." I mumbled groggily. I hadn't even realized I had fallen asleep, let alone on top of Frank.

Gerard rolled his eyes, "Thanks for the warm welcome, douchefuck, but I came to see if you're alive."

I raised an eyebrow, "Should I be un-alive for any reason? Did you guys forget to tell me I had AIDs?"

Gerard laughed, but it was short, "No, but I've been having issues regarding an enemy I shouldn't have made, and she's probably going to attempt to kill you. So, uh, ya."

"So, uh, ya? You aren't going to say 'don't worry, Mikey, since I love you and want your babies, I'll protect you.'?"

"Eww," he said, wrinkling his nose, "Who wants Mikey babies? No, of course I'll do my best to protect you, but she isn't exactly your average thug. She's... her."

"I love your use of adjectives."

He rolled his eyes and kissed my forehead before telling me to be careful and walking out of the room. Seconds later, I heard the noise of the basement door slamming, and knew he was retreating to his dungeon.

Lovers or not, we were still brothers.

Gerard:

I paced my room and attempting to think as rationally as possible. The likelihood of Vanessa following through and attempting to harm Mikey was slim; she knew I would kill her if she did. Then, she knew a lot of things she shouldn't.

I pushed the girl from my mind and instead found it returning to my brother. It all seemed so weird to me that not only had he accepted my proclamation of unnatural feelings for him, but he had told me he would try to love me, too. Was it possible for a boy like Mikey to love a monster like myself? I may have somewhat gotten over the fact that Mikey now knew, but that didn't mean I loved him any less, which made me a sick fucked up child. Being a pedophile would be better than being whatever I am... well, I guess it depends on how old and ugly the pedophile is...

I looked down at my arm. Fully extending it, scars glistened in the light from the lamp on my drawing desk, some much too recent, others from much longer ago. The one on the inside of my elbow joint, the one that spelled his initials, was possibly the boldest. Whenever I cut myself, this was the one I traced, permanently ingraining him into me. This way, when he realized I had issues and left me, told me I was sick and deserved to die, I would still have a small part of him. A very small part of him.

I guess I didn't realize I fell asleep until I was woken by soft sobs and the shifting of my blankets. I whipped my eyes, looking around for the source of the noise. My eyes fell on my brother, curled against me in my bed, shaking as he cried.

"Mikes! What's wrong?" I couldn't help how groggy my voice was, but I did my best and my arms cradled his small form. I couldn't understand why he had sought me rather than Frank, but I felt rather warm being able to hold him like this. It was a position of intimacy, not physically, of course, but mentally.

He whimpered, burrowing his face into my Smashing Pumpkins shirt and mumbling something incoherent.

I leaned down and shushed him gently, trying to calm him down, "Baby, I can't understand you."

He pulled away from my shirt, though I noticed he clung to me tightly, like he was afraid I'd fall away from him. Sitting up slightly he breathed in my ear, "I had a nightmare."

I studied his glossy brown eyes, tears still falling from them. He was fifteen, and he tended to suffer from insomnia, and when he did sleep, he was plagued by dreams, though he usually sucked it up at this point. Before I became distant to him, he would come crying to me at all times of the night. But that was when he was eleven and twelve. Not fifteen.

I could see the fear in his eyes. It must have been a really bad one to reduce him to this.

"What happened, Kitty?" It was a nickname I'd used to calm him when he had these nightmares when he was younger. Mikey leaned on me, his head resting on my shoulder.

"Remember the one with the zombies?" he whimpered.

How could I forget? More often than not, his night terrors revolved around the walking dead, mostly bleeding heavily and dismembered, blood flowing from their mouths like foam from a rabid dog's. He told me about how he could outrun them, and for a while, he would be safe. He would be alone, when he would turn and see one of us, his most precious loved ones, forced into the zombified state and coming at him. The real scary thing was, he would never escape, but he was forced to watch his own body being devoured by the people he loved before he was free from the dream.

I nodded and kissed his head, "I remember."

"It was worse... so much worse. There were these... bird-spider things that held me down, and they ripped out my heart and my eyes and..." Mikey broke of to sob, pressing his face into my neck.

I held him tighter, rocking him gently and singing like I did when we were younger. He calmed slightly, but silent tears still sliding down his beautiful face. I whipped them away with the pad of my thumb, "I'll protect you, Mikey. I'll always protect you. Nothing or no one will ever hurt you."

Mikey smiled into my neck, and whispered a thank you. I lay back down, pulling him with me and letting him snuggle into my chest. The truth is, I was terrified for him. I had told him I'd protect him, and I would, as long as I lived. I would do anything for this boy. The reason I was so scared for him was because there was nothing I could do to help him fight off the enemies of his mind.

When I woke up for the second time that night, it was six thirty am, but Mikey was still out. I watched him sleep, keeping my eyes wide. I knew what to look for. When he was having his bad dreams, he twitched and whined, made little frightened noises like a kitten. He was still, a blissful smile spread across his lips and his body was relaxed, pressed against mine sweetly. I stroked his hair, watching for signs despite my knowledge that he was now sleeping dreamlessly.

He was so adorable it hurt. Well, of course it hurt. Every time I looked at the boy, my wounds twinged. I knew what I deserved from him, his hatred, his disgust, it was a selfish act, forcing him to love me. I was sure his love was forced. I was so sure the only reason he had agreed to attempt to return my feelings was because he was so, so sweet. I hoped he realized soon he could do so much better than me.

Filler. I needed Ger to reflect more on his relationship with Mikey. And Sorry about not updating recently... SO MUCH FUCKING DRAMA D: Lol, better now. Please Comment! This Chapter is deticated to Michael James Way. (Username, not the person xD) because without you the wait for another chapter would have been MUCH longer.


	12. Monday

Monday

Mikey:

I hated school. Not like most kids hate school, where they deal with it because they get to see their friends. Oh, no, I hate school with a passion. Sure, I do have friends I miss and see at school, but I would see them outside of school, anyway. That, and, I hate school. I hate the people (other than my group of ass-kicking friends) I hate the teachers (all of them) and most of all, I hate the bullies (they don't count as people, more like ape-things...)

But, Monday is here, and true to it's vow to Garfield to ruin his life, I am the fat (not) orange cat in my comic book of a life. Here we are again, Monday, playing a deadly game where one of us prevails and the other embarrasses themselves. Guess who usually loses? That's right, me.

So, when my alarm clock starts blaring Anthrax, my eyes lift groggily, and it takes every bit of willpower I posses to get myself up and into the shower. Our water gets cold fast, so one minute I'm in a happy world of bubbles and unicorns, the next I'm yelping as my little world turns into one where I am frozen in a glacier.

So begins my morning. I evacuate the shower, put on my clothes, deodorant, and brush my teeth, leaving my hair un-straightened because it's Monday and I just don't care. I stumble down the stairs, into the kitchen, stopping dead in front of the one thing that makes my morning fantastic: a full coffee pot.

I pour myself a glass, draining it quickly (burning my tongue in the process. I told you it's Monday.) and turning to the couch where my older brother was sitting, eyes half-lidded and a lazy smile on his face as he watched cartoons. I snuck up behind him and placed my hands over his eyes. He jumped slightly, causing me to giggle, causing him to shout, "Mikey!"

Usually, he left early so he didn't have to see me, but I guess he waited for me. I leaned down and asked him if my suspicions were correct. Gerard scoffed.

"Me? Pfft, no. Why would I bother waiting for you? As if... pshhh..." but he didn't meet my eyes. I jumped onto the couch from behind it and hugged him tightly. I knew he didn't like needless physical contact with me, and he tried to squirm away from me, but I growled, "Hug back."

Sighing in defeat, he put his arms around me and rested his cheek on my head. It felt nice to hug him again. I made a small, contented humming noise in my throat, causing Gerard to chuckle.

"Did you just purr?" he asked, "I swear, you get more like a kitten every day..."

I nuzzled his neck and growled playfully.

"Not now, Mikey. I really don't want to walk to school with a boner."

Sixth hour is our last period of the day, and I was slumped in my desk, drifting in and out of conciseness as my AP History teacher droned on about the late eighties.

I didn't realize it. I should have. The two guys behind me were jocks. They were whispering, and I could hear my name being uttered, but in my half asleep state, I really didn't care. So as the last bell rung, Everyone surged to escape the prison they call school. I attempted to be one of them, getting as far away from here in as little time as possible, but I felt two meaty hands grab my arms and a gravely junior's voice say, "You're the other Way kid, right?"

I shook my head no. Denying these things was the best way to avoid getting the shit beaten out of you. The junior on my right, a dirty blonde with smoker's breath and bad ache, I think his name is Travis, said, Don't ask him, Derek, he'll just deny it. Stupid fuck. We both know he's that fag's little brother. Come on, lets bring him to the bathroom."

My eyes widened, but not really out of surprise. Well, I was surprised. Most of the jocks were totally brain dead. Looks like Travis isn't quite there yet. Derek, the one on my left, looked slightly confused.

"Won't the other Way kid get mad if we beat up his-"

Travis cut him off, "Do you honestly think that faggot emo boy has any chance against us? Well, we'll just teach his brother a lesson that should keep that kid from being such a creep."

Travis and Derek steered me around to the closest bathroom, which also happens to be the one no one uses, and threw me on the dirty tile floor, closing the door and locking it. Travis and Derek exchanged a few words before Travis strode over and kicked me in the gut, hard. I curled into a ball, trying to protect my vital organs.

Derek came then, yanking me up by my hair and holding into my while Travis punched every part of me he could reached. I whimpered. Travis laughed and punched me mouth, sending me sprawling across the floor. I was kicked several more times before Travis stepped on my face. Blood spurted from my nose, and I could have sworn it was broken. They laughed at my bleeding body, I could here them dumping the contents of my backpack in a toilet, before unlocking the door and leaving.

"Have fun, Way. Make sure your brother gets our message."

I called Ray to pick me up and drop me at home. It had taken a full ten minutes to persuade him I didn't need to go to the hospital, but when he finally did drop me at home, he told me Gerard wasn't there because he had gone out to look for me. As soon as my thoughts found Gerard, I knew I couldn't let him know this had happened. I begged Ray not to spill, he promised, and rushed inside to clean myself up.

Gerard:

When I got back home, I could hear the water running. So Ray was right when he told me Mikey was home now. I was pissed because he had scared me, but by the time I got to the top of the stairs, the water stopped. I heard the door connecting Mikey's room and the bathroom open and close, followed by soft sniffling. Was he crying?

I knocked on his door and called his name. His response was muffled, and his voice sounded strange. I wondered if he was alright.

"Who- Gee? Is that y-you?" he mumbled, not opening the door.

I reach for the handle, attempting to twist it, but it's locked. "Mikey, are you okay?"

"Not really... I-I uh, I'm sick. Leave me alone."

I felt rather offended, "Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?"

"No... go away."

Sighing, I turned away from the door and headed back to the basement. Mikey didn't usually get like this. Was he mad at me? Was he finally realizing I shouldn't be in his life? I hoped I would know before he shoved me away completely.


	13. Confessions

Mikey:

I couldn't explain it, but I knew that Gerard would find a reason to hate himself for what had happened to me. He would hurt himself and say it was for me, and I didn't need that. I was cleaner now, the only thing that was still bleeding was my nose, and I was doing my best with that, and I was numb on the inside. I was afraid to go downstairs, I knew he already assumed I hated him, and I didn't want to face him bruised and broken like this.

I avoided the moment when I would be forced to face him until Mom got home and called me down to eat. If there was one thing that woman was strict about, it was the intake of food by her children. I think it came from a mix of our Italian heritage and Gerard's unwillingness to be a part of our family.

Sighing, I trudge down the stairs, dragging my feet and keeping my head low. My mom didn't notice the damage in the beginning, but just as Gee showed up, she gasped loudly.

"Michael James Way, what on earth happened to you!" her voice was shrill with distress. I had forgotten the black eye, the most obvious of my injuries. I didn't answer.

Gerard let out a short breath, his hazel eyes shining with an emotion I was afraid to classify. If he wasn't careful, Mom would catch on that we weren't distant anymore. I could feel his eyes burning into me, but I kept my own fixed on the grey carpet.

"Mikey," she said shortley, "did you get into a fight?"

I don't answer for a moment, but my mother opens her mouth to begin again, "No, Mom. I just, uh, got pushed around in the halls today. There was, erm, a pep rally and everyone was in a hurry. The guy who punched me even apologized and stuff, it wasn't like he did it on purpose. Don't worry."

She glared at me in a way that told me she didn't quite believe the story, but she nodded curtly, "I have heard those events can get out of hand..." she mumbled, trying to reassure herself.

Gerard, on the other hand, was anything but fooled. He was a master of deception, he had to be, our parents didn't know he cut himself the way he did, and he saw straight through his little brother's cheesy lie. The look he was drilling into me told me that after we ate, I'd have some serious explaining to do.

Dad got home just in time to eat with us. It was a rare occurance, but we didn't mind so long as he didn't talk about shower curtains or ducks. Today, he told us about shower curtains with ducks printed on them. What fun.

He didn't notice my eye until Mom _very smoothly _pointed it out. At which point he asked if I had received the wound from a duck-printed shower curtain. Gerard laughed.

And the whole table went dead silent. Everyone turned to stare at him. He blinked and turned around quickly.

"Whut? Don't you fucking tell me I missed Spiderman AGAIN." Gerard exclaimed.

Mom chocked for a moment before staring between me and Gee, "G-Gerard, don't cuss."

I almost laughed at the looks on their faces. He had laughed, which had caused them to freak because their emotionless shell of a son suddenly has a sense of humor. Not only that, but he made a witty Spiderman remark. Oh, fucking noes.

At least he had succeeded in turning their attention away from me, which was his goal the whole time, I think. Dinner eneded, with more splutters of disbelief from both of my parents, before I caught Gee mouthing "Downstairs in five" which I took to meant I had to sneak downstair in five minutes.

I waited, or dreaded, the moment when my parents finally left and I managed to squeeze down into the basement stairwell, quietly making my way down to his bolted door.

I knocked four times. He answered imidiatly, drabbing my arm and dragging me into his room before promptly shutting it and locking all of his locks. He turned to stare at me.

"Mikey," he began, "that was a terrible lie. What happened to you?"

I sighed and sat down on his bed. I was going to keep him as far drom the truth as possible, because the last thing I wanted was him throwing a tantrum about this and blowing my injuries out of proportion. It's not like I was dead or anything.

Gerard took my silence as a comfermation of his worst possibilities, "Mikey, you can tell me what bastard did this to you, or you can stay quiet and I'll... well, I'll force it out of you."

I snorted, "How do you plan to do that?"

He gave me a quizical look before pushing me back on his bed and starddling me. My eyes were the size of dinner plates, and his warm breath carressed my neck and ear, "Feel familiar, Mikey?"

I shivered as nerve endings all along my sides and spine burned, but in a good way. He was adressing the time I'd teased him, and I didn't think he had the courage or discipline to attempt the intimacy between us.

I am surprised by how hard I'm shaking and how tight my stomach feels. I'm surprised when he leans down and trails butterfly kisses along by searing skin, I'm surprised he doesn't feel the heat, I'm surprised when he breaths into my ear, "Want to tell me me what happened?"

I'm quite surprised at the tightness in my pants, but I try (and fail) to ignore it, trying to force the words out. Gee's making it incredibly hard for me, rocking our hips together slowly and still trailing those tantalizing kisses up my skin.

"I- uh, well, these, uhm, guys, they, uh..."

His lips brush my ear once more, and he whispers, "Wouls it be easier of I got off you?"

I nodd hastily, and Gerard pulls himself off me, giving me a moment to let my heart rate return to normal. After a few minutes, he sits down next to me and scruffs my hair. Certainly a more brotherly thing to do that what we were going a minute ago...

He looks smug, I don't know if it's because of the rape (I wouldn't call it rape, you can't rape the willing...) or because he's going to find out what happened. Then, in a sudden transformation, he looks truly concerned about my injuries.

"Please tell me what happened Mikey." he says quietly.

I nod and proceed, "I got my ass kicked."

There was a long silence, before, "I assumed as much. Wanna give me more, uh, info there?"

"Ya, I got my ass kicked by two jocks named Travis and Derek-"

Gerard cut me off, "No. Fucking. Way. The hell would they pick on you for? They usually only bother Seniors... Oh, oh no. It had to do with me."

It wasn't a question. Both of us knew. I stared at the ground, not meeting his eyes. He blew out a long sigh.

"God, Mikey, I'm so sorry. I... wow. I can't believe this. I just... I'll kill them."

It amazes me that he can go from dead calm to pshyco killer in an instant. And he doesn't use chainsaws. If I had to guess, I'd say his weapon of choice would be a spork. That aside...

"Gerard," I began, only to be cut off once more.

"No, Mikey, they deserve to hurt for hurting you. I'll rip their fucking dicks off. I bet they don't even have dicks. I'll rip their mama's dicks off." he growled.

I don't know if I'm messed up for finding that amusing, but I'm messed up for various other reasons, so I just learned to go with it, "Gee, don't get yourself into trouble..."

A look came into his eyes, and I knew he was thinking about it being all his fault. I grabbed his shoulders and shook him, hard, "Listen to me, Gerard. This isn't your fault. It's not your fault. If you hurt yourself tonight, I'm going to stand up to those bullies and get my ass kicked two times harder. I'll cut myself. If you hurt yourself anymore, I'm going to hurt myself. I'm tired of you hurting yourself. I know. I know it's an escape, I know it's your way of coping with your feelings for me, but Jesus, Gerard, I feel the same way towards you and I don't cut."

He stared at me, his eyes wide. At first I didn't understand why he was just gaping at me like that. But then it occurred to me what I had just admitted. I swallowed.

"You feel the same way?" 


	14. I'm Scared

Gerard:

For an endless moment, I just stared at him. And he just stared back, his vivid brown eyes unblinking and very, very wide. I could see the crests under his eyes reddening as they always did when he let something slip that he wasn't supposed to. His eyes fell to the carpet, because he knew I'd see the truth there.

"You...really?" I whispered tentatively. Would he just say that to make me feel better? The way he stayed silent made me almost sure what he had said had been true. But how could he love me? There it was, the moral and usually true half of my mind spoke up.

_He is amazingly beautiful, but he is your brother!_

_But he just told you he has the same feelings you do._

_No, he didn't mean it. He's a fifteen year old boy, he has no idea what he wants!_

_What if he does? And he wants me?_

_Pfft, really? You, the crumpled shell of a socially retarded screwed up emo boy? He could have anyone, male or female, that he wants. Why would he settle for _you?

_...stop being right._

When I snapped out of my mental argument, I saw Mikey staring at me expectantly. Clearly he had spoken when I had zoned out, and he expected an answer.

I blinked and looked away, "I'm sorry, what?"

Mikey sighed shortly, "I said, I don't know if what I'm feeling is real, or if I'm ready for this, or if I'm ready for _you. _I do feel for you, but I'm pretty sure it's too early to determine the exact, uh, nature of the feelings. Ya know?"

I nodded, carefully considering what he was saying. I found some strange, chocking emotion building up inside me, burning at my throat and twisting my heart.

_He cannot love me. I won't let him! He can't! I won't let him ruin himself!_

_But you want him to love you!_

_Not nearly as much as I want to save him from my eternal damnation... _

I stood up and stared at him. Mikey kept his eyes on me behind his glasses, "No." I said, "No. Don't love me. Stop loving me right now. Stop feeling anything except hate for me. Get out of my room."

I forced the coldness into my voice. I could almost watch him deflate, the sadness in his eyes was enough to rent my heart in two. He stood up, not looking at me, and headed to the door. When he reached it and put one hand on the knob, he turned back and said, "You can kick me out of your room, you can kick me out of your life, hell, Gerard, you can kick me out of your heart, but I'm gonna keep on feeling what I feel, and there's nothing you can do about it."

And then he was gone.

Mikey:

I didn't understand his reaction. If anything, I had expected joy. Then, Gerard was never one who met expectations. He didn't know or understand the workings of the minds of others, and they didn't understand the workings of him, but he understood himself, and I'm sure whatever impulse had made him do what he did, it was perfectly logical in his mind.

What I wasn't prepared for, what I really, really wasn't prepared for, was things to go back to normal. Normal being his total avoidance of me and the rest of the family. I quickly realized that recovering Gerard was long gone, replaced by frightened, breakable Gerard.

Over the course of the next few days, it was made evident to me that he was falling back into the dark place. I could hear him crying every night. He started locking the basement door again. I heard his screams as he tore at his own flesh.

And I was the reason.

He had been healing, changing, returning to the normal-ish, funny, geeky, sarcastic, stubborn brother I had grown up with. He had become, in a way, a stronger Gerard. A Gerard that was getting past the pain and trying to live his own life, if not for himself, for me. Of course, he hadn't magically changed overnight like some oversized goth butterfly, but he had been progressing, changing, getting better.

And it was all lost. All of it. Every moment we spent together sinse his bout of silence, every word exchanged, it was gone, never to be seen again. I wanted to, in the very least, understand why my confession of feelings had been what had driven him back into his dark corner. I wanted to see how his mind worked, why that scared him to the extreme where he stopped eating and socializing.

Mom wasn't surprised when I talked to her. Our conversation was brief, and went something like this.

"Mom, do you think Gee will get better now?" I asked, regarding the other night when he had spoken to our mother and father.

She looked sadly at me, "Truth is, I doubt it. Things like the rut Gerard has made himself are hard to climb back out of. Sometimes the walls are too high and we don't even want to bother."

It hurt me to realize how true the words were. How could I lose Gerard again, after working so hard to keep him? How could _I, _the one who most wanted him to become his normal prick self, drive him back into the state of mind where he hurt himself daily and cried himself to sleep?

I didn't know what Gerard was thinking, calling himself a monster. I didn't know what Gerard was thinking when he did anything he did. All I could really be sure of at this moment was that he was the innocent broken boy, and I was the monster.

Gerard:

It is dark. I like it dark. Everything is dark. I don't even know if my eyes are open or closed. I lift a finger and attempt to touch my eye. It is closed. I am afraid to open it. There are a lot of things I am afraid of, but at the moment, the most dominant fear is of opening my eyes.

There are a lot of reasons that I am afraid to open my eyes. Because I may see a zombie limping around my room, even though it is pitch black, I am convinced I would see the zombie anyway. There could be a demon waiting to swallow me. There could be a number of illogical things waiting to kill me, but none of them _really _scare me.

There is only one thing that really scares me. I can't say it or it will appear. It isn't an it, it is a he. But that does not matter. All that matters is that I do not say his name, or else he will come. Which is the very last thing I would like to happen at the moment.

I am scared right now for another reason as well. I am scared because I heard him scream. I am scared because he is dreaming bad dreams and I am scared to go help him because he frightens me. I have bad dreams some times. I do not think I scream, though. But he does. He does a lot.

He screams again, and I press my eyelids together, making my vision underneath them go red slightly. I do not like hearing him scream. I wish someone would help him. But not me. I cannot help him because I am scared.


	15. Internal Conflict

Mikey:

They were getting worse. Every night it was the same. A bloody, black and silver winged cat and an army of the undead, ravenous for my flesh and blood. This one is worse... so much worse. I can't run, I can't move, I can't breath as the cat stands in front of me, staring into my eyes with unmistakable hazel ones.

"Why don't you fucking help me?" I scream at the beast, "Please! I'm sorry! Don't let them kill me!"

But the cat lowers its head and pressed is nose to one of the many tears cascading down my face before flickering and disappearing. And then the broken and decaying corpses advance, some with mouths open, some with no mouths at all, all bleeding and staring at me as though I'm going to restore their beauty.

Then one will finally reach me and they slowly rip the flesh from my bones, licking the flowing blood from my arms. I can see it all. They gouge out my eyes and rip out my tongue, they bite of my fingers and tear out my ribs.

When they finnish, I do not die. I am left, my entire body alive with firey pain, and slowly my heartbeat slows until I become one of them.

This is usually when I wake up. But once, I dreamed I layed in that same position until the cat returned. Its eyes found mine. They were full of pain.

"Look..." I rasp out to it, "Look what you've... done. To me..."

The cat then spreads its eagle-esq wings and bursts into a real blue and silver flame. I hear my name in Gerard's voice escape the creature as it's body falls next to mine. The living dead return to devour it's flesh.

The following Monday, the school bullies really seem to be the least of my issues. I can tell he's changing again. Not in a good way. He is becoming violent with others. He talks to Mom and Dad now. He is violent with them. But not me. He never even looks at me.

When we walk to school that morning, he does something I'm not expecting at all. He says my name. At fist I think I'm hearing things, but then he says it again. I look slowly at him, but he is focused on something distant. He gestures for me to get behind him. I do so.

Quite suddenly an ugly little girl is standing in front of us. She doesn't scare me, except for her jagged smile, "Hello, Gerard. Who's this? Your little boytoy I have to destroy?"

I shrink behind him further out of instinct. I can see his muscles flexing, and his teeth grinding together, "You know, Vannessa, this really is not a good time."

"Why not, Gee?"

Jealousy spikes in me when she says it. That is _my_ name for him.

Gerard relaxes with obvious effort, "Because I never have time for stuck up bitches."

She snorts, " Honestly? Well, I'll just kill him now then."

The girl takes a step forward, her beady little eyes fixed on me. Gerard moves faster than I though possible, whipping a pistol from some hidden place and pointing it straight at her. For a moment, she looks scared. Then she smiles.

"Bravo, Gerard. You've bested me, but don't think you can keep me waiting long..."

He fires. And misses. Because she's gone.

Gee turns to me, grabs my wrist and leads me down an alley.

"Are you okay?" he asks, trying to check me for injuries.

I nod absently. I am very distracted by how close his face is to mine. In a quite un-Mikeyish manner, I grab the back of my brother's head and pull him down so our lips collide. For a moment, he does nothing. Then he kisses me back.

I put a hand on his cheek as we kiss deeply for an entire minute before breaking away from each other. When I look back at him, he isn't violent Gerard anymore, but he also isn't normal Gerard. He is thinking Gerard. The Gerard I fear most.

He doesn't say another word to me, he just gets up and walks out of the alley. I yank myself up and follow him. He doesn't look back and he doesn't speak. I catch up and I grab his hand.

"Please." I whisper when he finally looks at me, "Please, Gee."

There is obvious conflict in his eyes. The fragile broken Gerard who is afraid of me wants him to run. The violent protector Gerard who needs to stay close me for the sole reason to keep me alive, thinking Gerard who wants him to disappear altogether. Then I see it. There, in his eyes, behind the other identities and the lies and fears, my Gerard. My goofy, lovable, stubborn, geek of a brother.

In a second, he is gone. A new Gerard makes himself apparent. He isn't thinker Gerard. He isn't broken Gerard. He is quiet and empty. He is ghost Gerard. He takes his hand out of mine and keeps walking, his eyes low.

It's too much. The dreams. The loss of myself. The loss of him. I feel the tears come and I can do nothing to hold them back. I let out a short gasp of pain, making ghost Gerard turn and look at me. His empty eyes spark when they see the tears.

I fall to my knees and sob. Everything, the pain and fear of my nightmares, the pain and fear of losing him, the pain and fear of the unknown.

"Gee, please come back! Please! I'm so fucking sorry! I just want you back! I want my brother, not someone else! P-please!" I gasped through the tears.

Ghost Gerard just stares at me. I can see it, I can see him, my Gerard trying to break through, trying to get to me. The other Gerards are too much for the force of my Gerard alone. He fights, and I keep crying, because it makes him fight harder.

But they are too much, and after another moment of flickering in his eyes, another Gerard shows himself. This one smirks at me.

"You won't win, Michael." he says.

I stare at this Gerard. His eyes shine with cold malice. He is evil Gerard, "I will win. My brother is still down there somewhere. Past... this. You can't win because you aren't real."

Cold, evil Gerard stares me down with hate in his eyes. He turns and walks away, towards the school. I didn't know what it was I had to do, but somehow I had to destroy these things that had pushed my brother away.

Gerard:

I ditched. I needed to get out. I need to get out of everything. I need to disappear and find a place where no one will find me. But I knew he would find me no matter where I went. He is my venom, the bane of my existence. I need to get away from him.

_Go back to him. Let me see him. Let me see my brother!_

I clutched my head pushing the voice away, "No. He wants to kill me."

_He wants me back._

"He hates all of us!"

_He hates you. You are not me. He wants his Gerard back, not you. Not any of you._

"Shut up, shut up, shut up!"

_Let me have my brother back._

"No."

_He'll kill you. He will destroy all of you. You underestimate him._

"He can't win. We will."


	16. Five

Mikey:

When I got home from school, I had a plan. I didn't know if it would work, but I sure as hell was gonna try. I didn't look for Gerard, I didn't talk to him again. I decided that if he was going to pull this shit, two could play that game.

Time past sluggishly, he got home a couple of hours after I did, and immediately went down to his room. I didn't follow him, I didn't do anything, I just sat in my room, thinking and listening. I heard through the air vents, his voice, he was arguing with himself.

"Just leave me alone. No, no, no! Stop it, you can't. He won't. He'll come back. I won't let him kill us. I won't. No, you can't. You're the prisoner. Ha! No, we control you now. What? That's stupid. I've told you, there's nothing he can do. He can't kill us, we are you. If we die, you die. It's perfectly possible. Get out of my head!"

I heard a muffled thumping as Gerard hit his head against something. I hated that he was going through this, I hated that I can't go down there and help him. I have to stick to my plan.

I hear him start yelling at himself once more, but this time, I step away from the air vent and go back to my bed, laying down and closing my eyes.

But the last thing I needed was to fall asleep.

It started again, like a movie rolling in, except there is no intro. It just begins. The setting is different, we are on a cliff face. And rather than a cat leading the undead, it is my brother leading the others of himself. I watch closely. Will he, will they, kill me?

The one in front looks the most like the old him. No dark circles under his eyes. No fear. No cuts on his arms, no self hatred in his eyes. Just the strength of my childhood hero. The one to his right is crouched, staring at me like I am the flesh-eater in his night terror. The one to his left isn't looking at me, but his stance is that of defense. He is older and his hair is longer.

There are two more, fanned outward, one to the immediate right of little frightened Gerard and one to the left of protector Gerard. The one to the right of the scared one has his eyes fixed on the sky, he is indifferent and he does not care about what is happening. This is thinking Gerard.

The one to the left of the protector stares blankly. He is slightly transparent and feels nothing, including emotions. He is the ghost. Slightly behind him is the malicious, hateful, evil Gerard, staring at me and smiling in a way that told me he wanted to hurt me.

The Gerard in front, my Gerard, steps forward, his hazel eyes stare into mine. I find myself able to move, but I do not. If I do, I'm sure he will disappear. He smiles a small smile.

"Mikey, you need to destroy them, one by one." he says, utterly serious.

I swallow nervously, "H-how?"

"You have to find that out for yourself, Mikey," Gerard whispered, "Find the weakness of each and kill them. I can't come back until you've taken away my hiding place."

"But why, Gerard?" I gasp suddenly, not able to hold it back, "Why do you need to hide?"

Gerard hangs his head, "Because I am afraid of what I don't know. I am afraid of hurting you, and I am afraid of hurting myself. I am terrified, so scared, that if I become close to you, something terrible will happen. I already know it, and my mind and heart are working against each other. My mind wants me to flee, or at least, my mind wants to keep shoving these," he gestures at the other Gerards, "these... manifestations at you. So you will hate me and avoid getting hurt. My heart, though, my heart wants me to be with you. My heart wants me to be me and you to be you. But my heart doesn't understand the risk, and I want to follow it anyway, but my head isn't giving me that choice. That's why my mind created these beasts, to drive you away. It hasn't worked, and my heart just wants you more."

I nod slowly, "So, I have to kill them? All of them?"

He nods gravely, "They think you won't try. You need to, no matter how badly it seems I want you gone, no matter how much I scream and kick or hurt myself, you need to keep trying. You need to kill them or I will be gone forever. Do you understand?"

My heart is racing. _Kill them? Find the weakness? What if they don't have weaknesses?_

"Michael? Take out the weakest first." his eyes flick to the cowering Gerard, "wait until he seems dominant in my body, and do what you think you have to. That's all I can do to help you now..."

The dream is fading. I feel a terrible hatred, a flash of boiling, hot rage, deep thought, then cold, sweeping fear, followed by absolutely nothing, then, at last, intense love. The emotions of all of his different forms, the pure concentration of every manifestation of his being. It is my job now to turn them into one Gerard instead of six.

I was still ignoring him. I was waiting until that crumpled, weak Gerard showed himself. He had been avoiding that Gerard, I think, because the one I see whenever I'm around him is the malicious one or the deep thinker. He's keeping his guard up.

But he slips. And I catch it.

He can't stay the same for too long, or his mind will lose the identities and he will return to normal Gerard, which is everything his mind had been trying to prevent. I don't know how I know it, but I do. I also know that, contrary to my earlier belief, he can't quickly take on a different identity. Once he takes on a spirit, he is forced into that frame of mind for at least five minutes.

So when I heard him crying through the vents, I knew I had to move quickly.

I picked the basement door's lock, and managed to get down to his room. It took a lot longer to pick his locks silently, but I could still hear the muffled sobs, so I knew I was in the clear so far. I finally managed to open the last of the locks, and I slowly opened the door.

It was dark in his room and it was dark in his hallway, so I don't think he noticed when I closed the door behind me and crept over to his bed. Gerard's face was buried in a pillow and he cried, and he was sitting in the middle of his bed. I maneuvered around the bed, and very carefully pulled myself onto it. He felt it move and his head jerked up, but before he could look back, one of my hands covered him mouth, and the other his eyes.

He shrieked and said something, but he was muffled by my hand and I couldn't understand it.

"Shut up and do what I say." I growl into his hear, making sure he knows its me. When he hears my voice, he starts to shake. "I'm going to remove my hand. If you make any noise or say anything, you know what I'll do."

I didn't actually know what I was going to do, but apparently he did, because he nodded. I realized he was crying.

"Stay silent."

He does nothing as I remove the hand covering his mouth. He's shaking harder, and I can feel his eyes squeezed tightly shut out of fear. I lean forward and press my lips into his. Gerard tries to yank himself away from me.

"N-no, s-stop, please!" he whimpers, "Please!"

I wince. I know that he thinks I'm hurting him, but this is his weakness, and I have to destroy him. I take my hand off of his eyes, he is still tightly closing them, and I pull myself on top of him, holding him under me. His heart is racing, and he is making little whimpering noises.

I hate to do this. But he told me I have to, "What did I say I would do if you made noise?"

"No, please! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, please don't!"

I don't even know what to do, so I take a fistful of his hair and kiss him aggressively. His body shudders and I feel his tears and his fear. It cuts deep into my soul doing this to him. _It's not the real Gerard, it's not really him._

He goes completely silent now, and I feel, or sense, rather, the mental death of the scared Gerard. He is replaced by my protector.

This Gerards shoves me off of him, glaring down at me as I fall onto the floor. But I also see the concern flash behind his eyes. He is my protector, even if he hates me like the rest of them do.

I pull myself up and stagger out of the room, not looking back as that Gerard watches me leave. A plan is already formulating in my head on how to take care of the next Gerard. His job was to protect me, right? So I would have to hurt myself.


	17. Four

Gerard:

It's like I'm watching my life from a window. I can see them talking to him, but I can't reach him. I can never reach him. It's like I'm tied to the walls of my mind, and they are possessing me. I want my brother. I watched him destroy the weakest of them, and I know he plans to do it again.

But I know how he plans to do it. And I'm not okay with him injuring himeslf. I suppose I shouldn't be saying that when every day for a year I cut myself, but this is different. This is him.

Whichever manifestation of myself controls me at the moment is arguing with me. I argue with them a lot. They speak out loud, and I think what it is I have to say.

_Why are we still doing this? _

The protector, as Mikey called him, answered my question with one of his own, "Why did you do this to him?"

_What? I'm trying to keep you from hurting him!_

"Not really. It's your fault for being afraid and creating us. You know we don't really exist. We aren't demons possessing you, Gerard. We are you. You did this to him, not us."

I wince. _N-no... this isn't my fault... I can't control you!_

"You could if you wanted to. Do you even want to save your brother?"

_Of course I do! I... we... This isn't... No! I'm not... You aren't me!_

He, I, whoever, snorts, "Gerard, we aren't ghosts possessing you. We aren't demons, we aren't anything. We are figments of your imagination. We are your escape route, and you need to admit it. This is all part of your mind... we aren't even real..."

The voice, his voice, my voice, fades, and I think I'm unconscious.

Mikey:

I've figured everything out now. I am so totally ready for this. Well, not really. I have never intentionally harmed myself in my entire life, and I am scared shitless to start now. The only thought thats really pushing me to do this rather than just forgetting about it is that I'm doing this for Gerard.

I suppose I don't really give off that vibe, but I am very good at plotting, and right now, I have to plot a way to lure out protector Gerard. I think I just have to do what comes unnaturally.

_I'm ready for this_, I told myself, _I'm ready._

I stood outside his door, holding a razorblade and panting slightly. I was surprised by how nervous this made me. I raised a fist and knocked twice.

There was a hiss of distaste from behind the door. Then, a smooth and not at all Gerard-like voice said, "Go away, Michael. You aren't worth my time."

"Let me in or I'll do it right here and write threats on your door in blood." I have no idea where my courage came from.

There is an impacient sigh from in the room, "You think I care if you spill your own blood?"

I find a smile spreading onto my face and I gently press the blade to the skin on my wrist, "Two out of five do."

A second impatient sigh. The door is opened and I see my brother. Well, not really. His eyes are cold and have dark bags under them, and his expression is one of utter malice, "Alright. What?"

I press the blade farther into my skin, dragging it across my arm before lifting it. Blood begins to bead along the incision, and I replace the blade slightly under the first cut, pressing down and repeating the action.

Gerard's eyes widen, and I can see the hatred flee to be replaced by anger and concern, "What the hell are you doing?"

I wish this was my Gerard worrying about me. I wish none of this was happening. I wish I wasn't feeling the flashes of searing pain creeping along my wrist. I wish he was here.

I drag two fingers along the cuts, collecting the blood that slowly oozes out of the cuts. I lift my red fingers and press them against his left cheek, slowly moving them along this face until I hit the bridge of his nose. The I drop my hand and stare into his eyes.

The swirl of emotions is going so fast I only just have time to register them. Fear, love, anguish, sorrow, more fear, longing, hatred and anger. He raises a hand and touches the blazing red trail. I watch closely as, for the secind time, I feel the death of one of him, except it is acompanied by a whimper from my brother and a single tear. He stares at me before his expression becomes vancant and distant.

Gerard drops his hand and turns away from me, shutting the door in my face. I take more blood from my still-flowing wrist and write his name on the door. Above it I write "I love you."

Two down, four to go.

A week later, I am hospitalized.

My night terrors have gotten to the point where, during one particularly horrible dream, I attempted to kill myself by jumping off the roof. I succeeded in breaking my leg and spraining my wrist, but not in killing myself, thankfully.

I am afraid of sleeping.

The doctors who talked to me think that I am suiciadal. They saw the cuts on my wrist. My mother was not happy when she was told about them. She told me she already has one son who has ruined himself, and if I went that way she was disowning me. Of course, after seeing the cuts, she thinks the dream _was_ a suicide attempt.

My friends and family have been at my bedside since I got here yesterday. Though my mother, and now my father, still believe I was trying to kill myself, my friends know very well about my dreams. When Frank came, he listened to me rant about how stupid my parents must be for thinking me suicidal, the idiocy of the doctors for thinking I was lying, and most of all my brother, who hadn't visited me in the hospital.

I ended up crying. Frank didn't have to ask why.

My own brother hadn't come to visit me. I don't know why I expected him to.


	18. You Came

Gerard:

No._ Yes_. No. _Yes. _No. _Yes_. No! _Yes_! No! _Yes!_

No. No, no. No!

_Yes! Yes, yes, yes. Yes, you will let me go! I need to see him! This is my fault! Everything is my fault!_

No. He doesn't matter. Forget about him. When he dies, we will be at peace.

_Get shot._

Maybe I will.

Mikey:

I wasn't really expecting him to show up. Fuck it, I really, really hoped he would burst through those doors and tell me how sorry he was for not being here earlier.

_And then what? Make sweet love to you in the hospital bed?_

I shuddered. No, not quite that far. Thanks for the originality, though, thoughts. Really great.

I had noticed since I'd gotten here I seemed to be progressively worsening. I actually felt sick now, I was shaking constantly, and I often complained about a sharp pain in my chest. It was so weird, but I assumed that because I was surrounded by doctors, it was probably nothing. They'd tell me if they found something...right?

The truth was, the doctors kept coming back and checking on me, each time they looked more worried than the last. What was so wrong with me? Sure, a couple of broken bones, but those would heal. They're acting like I'm on my death bed.

_Oh, fuck._

"Michael, we ran a few tests this morning, and we regret to inform you we found a strong and fast growing spread of the Pneumonia virus. Pneumonia is a severe inflammation of the lungs in which the thin tissue around air spaces swell and fill with fluid. Its... the virus has been aloud to develop, but hopefully with the correct amount of penicillin we can reverse it."

I swallowed. My mother asked, "And if it's too late?"

The doctor sighed, "He could drown in the fluid filling his lungs."

Gerard:

Something was wrong. So, so wrong. I could feel it. My chest was hurting. I felt like someone was stabbing me. I shook. I checked my temperature twice, and it was normal despite the fact that I felt totally out of it. I had no idea what was going on.

Mom and Dad were at the hospital with Mikey. They'd been gone a lot more often lately, leading me to believe that something was wrong. So, so wrong.

I fought every instinct that told me to stay, staggered out to my car and drove to the hospital. It was a half hour drive, and I shook the whole time, feeling the stabbing sensation. I was so sure I knew where it was coming from.

I tried to push my earlier battle with myself out of my mind.

I had held the gun. I had been so, so ready to pull that trigger, to end it. That's when the pain started. I was confused. I wanted to end this game. I was losing. I wanted it to be over. But the pain persisted. I felt a hundred instincts rush me at once, some telling me to end the pain as well with my loaded gun, the one I had stolen out of my brothers room. My brother. Who was in the hospital. My brother. Who I loved very much.

My brother.

And I threw the gun back where it had been tactfully hidden, and shoved myself away from my house, into my car, and I was now on my way to the hospital, speeding on almost every road. Searing agony and the deepest sadness course through me. It isn't my own.

I'm feeling what he's feeling. And he's hurt and sad.

_In the moment, I am totally unaware I am myself with no interference from my ghosts. In this moment, all that matters to me is him. My brother, the boy I love to no end. He's saved me countless times, and even though I know in the back of my head they'll come back when this is over. I dread that moment._

Traffic was terrible and it took me an extra ten minutes to get there. When I finally did, parked, and managed to get inside, I barked at the receptionist, "Michael James Way."

She glared at me before direction my to a room in the East Wing. It took another ten minutes to find his. I felt like I was running out of time. When I reached the room at last, neither Mom nor Dad were there, and I was terrified because they hadn't left him in days, and that might mean he was dead.

I looked at him. He wasn't dead. But he wasn't okay. I stepped into the room.

I wrapped an arm around myself and walked over to Mikey's bed, kneeling down next to it. He glanced at me and then away. Then he glanced at me again and whispered, "You came."

My heart broke.

"Ya, I... I should have come earlier, I shouldn't have done what I did, I shouldn't have been so selfish! I was worried about my self but I should have been worried about you, Oh my god, Mikey, please don't die! I love you and you mean everything to me and I'm so sorry! I'll do anything to make it up-"

He cut me off, "You came, Ger. Not any of them. You."

And then he kissed me, right there, slowly. And this being my Mikey, I had no option but to kiss him back.


	19. Simplicity

Mikey:

Everything was fuzzy and colorful. I think it had something to do with the drugs the doctors gave me to fight of the pneumonia, but I honestly didn't care. Oh look, a unicorn! How pretty...

Unfortunately the unicorn is scared off by gentle snoring from beside me. I glanced to my right and saw my brother. Was he a hallucination as well? I reached over, making to touch his silky black head. My fingers nudged up against his head, which snapped up, revealing a very groggy looking Gerard.

"M-Mikey? You okay?" he mumbled, reaching out and stroking my hair.

"Ya, Gee," I whispered, keeping my eyes on him, "I'm fine, other than the pneumonia..."

"Pneumonia! What! I thought you were here because of the broken bones!" he gasped. Oh, right, he hadn't been informed of my condition.

I sighed, not meeting his eyes, "Well, when I first got here that was all they were checking me for. But apparently one of the blood tests picked up traces or something like that... Well, I have a severe case of pneumonia, and I... I might die."

He stared at me. Just stared. Then finally, "No."

"No wha-"

"No, you can't die. I need you too much. I won't let you leave me."

He was my Gerard. Something told me the others where long, long gone.

Gerard:

Our parents came back an hour later. They were surprised to see me here, but for some reason I didn't care. I felt very defensive of Mikey, even though our parents wouldn't do anything to hurt him, ad I knew that, I still had the undying urge to stand between him and them at all times. I tried to do it smoothly, but I think Mom noticed.

"Gerard, what are you doing here?" asked my mom

I shifted myself slightly in front of Mikey's bed, keeping my eyes on her, "I came to see my brother. I thought you guys wanted me to see him... I just wanted to see how he's doing. No one bothered to tell me that he has pneumonia. Thanks so much for that."

"Well Gerard," Dad said, utterly serious, "You've showed such little interest in your brother the past year or so we really didn't think you'd care. I'm surprised you came at all!"

I hissed softly, mostly because he was absolutely right, "Well, I'm here now. And I'm not going back too school. I'm going to stay with him."  
"That isn't acceptable," Mom said, "You have to go to school."

"Ya, whatever. I'll go back when he does."

Mom sighed softly, placing with her hands, "You know he might... y-your brother may not..."

"Then I die, too."

~

It was hard to watch him. He was so feeble and weak, it looked like the penicillin wasn't working. But I wasn't going to lose him. Not when he knew I loved him and he had accepted that. Not after what we'd been through.

I extended my arm, looking at the pale flesh and the stark white scar that stood out on the underside of my arm near my shoulder. His initials wouldn't fade. I just hoped he wouldn't either.

About an hour later, he woke up for real for the first time in days. He'd always been drowsy or stupid on the drugs, never really my Mikey. He snapped out of that for a while.

At first I didn't notice it, but then I could see his eyes behind his glasses, clear and unclouded by illusions and confusion.

"Mikey?" I asked.

He looked at me and smiled, "Hey, Gee. How are you?"

I stared at him, "How am I? How are you?"

"Hmm, I feel a lot better, but not strong. I think its going away..."

I felt a little bubble blowing up inside me. He felt better? He was healing? That was great! I repeated the words out loud to him.

"Ya," He said, still smiling, "I don't think I'm going to die!"

I sigh softly and get down on my knees by his bed, pressing my lips to his ear and whispering, "You'd better not, or I'll find you in the afterlife and kill you again..."

"Gee..." he whispered past giggles. He was very sensitive, as I knew very well. I started kissing up and down his neck, earning adoring groans from him.

In the midst of our games, someone stepped into the room, and neither of us noticed until the person gasped, "What the hell are you doing!"


	20. A Mother Always Knows

Mikey:

My eyes widened, and Gerard's head swiveled to stare at the person standing there, watching us. I felt Gee relax slightly, and I raised my own eyes to look into two I knew very well. I sighed heavily.

"Jesus, Frankie, you gave Ger a heart attack." I mumbled to my best friend, reaching out to stroke Gerard's hair. He didn't take his eyes off Frank, but looked considerably more relaxed.

Frank smirked, "Well I told you I wanted to see some action, I just imagine what would have happened if I had been your mother. I wish I had walked in with Gerard straddling you and both of you naked. Much sexier, I think." He walked calmly into the room and sat in one of the two creaky hospital chairs that were next to my bed.

In the mean time, Gerard buried his face in my neck and started licking me. I shuddered softly, mumbling, "G-get off...we have company... keep it in your pants for five minutes."

He whimpered, "But Mikeyyyyy..."

I glared at him. Frank, who had watched the exchange, piped up, "Honestly, Mikes, I don't mind at all. In fact, please do continue."

"No thanks, Frankie. We're in public, and the doctors and nurses all know he's my brother. If anyone sees us, we'll be in deep shit. I'd prefer to leave the touching and/or flirting for later. If my horny brother can keep it to himself."

Gerard pouted and stood up, walking across the room and sitting down on the cold tile floor in a shadowy corner. What irony. I watched him go, attempting to communicate with my eyes that I loved him and I wasn't rejecting him. He just stuck his tongue out at me. Well, at least I knew he didn't despise me...

Gerard:

The doctors told us a few hours later that Mikey was in fact getting better. Our doctor even said if the pneumonia was completely gone with no traces left behind, he could be released early next month. I felt ecstatic.

Frank stayed for a couple hours, but before he left he made us swear to record any sex we were going to have and let him watch it. I really didn't understand why Mikey was friends with this kid. He was obnoxious and punky and always horny, nothing at all like my brother. Actually, he's the kind of kid I'd screw for free. This thought led to many more pertaining to convincing Frank to help me tie Mikey to my bed. Something told me it wouldn't be hard...

At the moment, Mikey was asleep. He looked so peaceful, and apart from being quite pale, he looked almost normal again. I couldn't wait to be out of here. Hell, I was excited to be back in school. The only thing I was really worried about was the fact that my cover was blown with my parents.

I know they noticed my behavior. They didn't walk in on us _doing _anything yet, but it was only a matter of time. Just as these worries and fears became entangled in my mind, I looked up towards the door to see my very ruffled mother and my passive looking father staring at me.

Dad motioned for me to follow him. I got up, not realizing I was shaking, and following him. I was thankful it would be me getting chewed out and not my innocent little brother. My father instructed that my mother stay in the room with Mikey.

"N-no, Donald, I want to be involved too. He's my son as well you know!" She exclaimed.

My father sighed, "Of course dear. Some then. Gerard, you come too."

He didn't sound happy.

After turning down several hallways, we got to a family bathroom. Dad held the door open. I supposed that meant I was supposed to go inside.

"Erm, Dad, it says family bathroom, but I don't think that you're supposed to bring your whole fam-"

He glared at me, "Just go in."

I did as I was told, followed closely by my mother. She looked incredibly nervous, and she and my father exchanged nervous words before she turned to me, "Gerard, honey, we aren't upset with you, we just need some questions answered. Is that okay?"

I opened my mouth only to be cut off by my father.

"Donna!" He roared, "I don't care if its okay with him! I want to know whats going on, and he isn't aloud to detach himself from my family then suddenly become your precious angel again!"

My mother didn't flinch. She stared him down. My dad eventually dropped his gaze and added, "If that's okay with you, honey..."

I almost laughed. Almost.

Then Dad turned to me, "Okay, Gerard. What's wrong with you?"

"Isn't that a little rude? I mean, here I was, assuming I was perfectly fine and then-"

"Answer the question."

My shaking was more evident now, and I backed up several paces, my back hitting the wall. I slid slowly down it so I was sitting on the floor, "What do you mean, exactly?"

"I mean," He began, "You suddenly, out of the blue, decide to spend your whole life in the basement. You don't say a word to your mother or I or your little brother for months. You hurt yourself."

My head snapped up, "How did you kno-"

"You made it obvious. Anyway, then one day you start talking at dinner. Then we hear you talking to your brother. Actually conversing. And suddenly, he ends up in the hospital because his dreams are getting worse, and you become super brother and come out here. You stood between our own son and us. Do you fancy yourself his protector, after a year of utter silence? Are you trying to make up for it? Do you see the way he looks at you, Gerard? He's terrified of you falling back into that pattern. But there's something else there. Something I can't quite identify. Would you have any clue what that is?"

Every muscle in my body is tensed. What is he asking me? Does he know something? What am I supposed to say?

The thoughts fly around my head faster than I can think them. At the moment, I am petrified. If my dad knows about my feelings for him, he would separate us. And Mikey may not know it, but I can't live without him.

I feel an icy sweat break out on the back of my neck. I glance up to see his probing eyes fixed on me. Mom's watching me to, but with concern. She smiles reassuringly behind my father's back. I don't know what to do. My dad sighs softly.

"Alright son. You think about that and get back to me. I'm going to go see if Michael is awake. Stay here for a while. I'd do you some good to think." He said, nodding to me and kissing my mother before leaving the bathroom.

I began to pant shallowly, my eyes darting all over the place. Mom walked over to me, holding out a hand to help me up. I stared at her a moment before taking it and pulling myself up. She released my hand but pulled me into a tight hug.

"You know it's okay Gerard. It's nothing you can control." she whispered.

I stared at her, "Wh-what?"

"Loving Mikey the way you do. I know your confused, and I want you to know its okay."

I chocked harshly, "Wh-what?"

She smiled, almost sadly, "Gerard, your father doesn't know. I won't tell him, and I won't separate you two. You're good for Michael and he's good for you. Love is love, sweetheart, its a crazy emotion that doesn't care about who it targets. I know that's why you acted the way you did, all those months ago. It's alright, honey."

I stared at her. I didn't know whether to scream or tell her how awesome she was. "H-how do you kn-know?"

Mom smiled at me, a knowing smile that promised those lips wouldn't spill my secret, "Oh, Gerard, a mother always knows."


	21. What Are Brothers For?

A few weeks later; Mikey's release from the hospital:

Gerard:

God, I was so horny. Ya, I know what that sounds like, but I couldn't fucking help it. Mikey's first night back with us and he has to make it hard for me, I've never had the best self control, and he's certainly pushing it with those nimble fingers of his. Explanation? We were at the dinner table and for whatever reason I was sitting next to him rather than across. One of his hands was in my lap, and he was tracing lazy circles over the bulge in my tight pants.

I shot him looks occasionally, mostly pleading, but he didn't stop. Finally, I finished eating and pushed his hand from my lap and doing my best to hide my erection. As I stood behind the counter, thanking Jesus the table my mother, father and brother were seated at was on the other side, I put my dish quickly in the dishwasher and shuffled off to the basement door, trying to walk normal and failing.

I glanced at Mikey before opening the door. My pants seemed to tighten further at the look on his face, a look that said, "I'll be down in five minutes, be naked and ready."

Or, maybe that's just what I was hoping he was thinking. Shivering lightly, I rushed down to my room to take care of my problem. J

Just as I was kicking off my pants, Mikey opened my door and closed it behind him, locking it. My eyes widened slightly.

"Hey Mikey. What up?" I asked, carefully watching him. He smiled innocently, approaching me and sitting on my bed, pulling his own shirt over his head before grabbing my hand and pulling me down next to him.

"Well..." he whispered, pressing his lips to my ear and sliding his good hand under my boxers and stroking my hardness, "I wanted to help you take care of this... What are brothers for?"

I couldn't really object, not when his fingertips caressed my shaft and he'd just promised me pleasure. He did, however, withdraw his hand from my boxers, earning a disappointed groan from me. He smiled and got up, going to stand in front of my before getting down on his knees and tugging at my boxers, keeping his eyes locked with mine.

I licked my lips subconsciously, my mouth had gotten very dry and anticipation welled up inside me. A tiny voice in the back of my mind repeated to me that he was my brother and this was wrong, but I wanted it far to badly to care. Mikey yanked at my boxers again, and I lifted my hips off the edge of the bed so he could remove them.

Once I was completely naked and Mikey had marveled at the size of my erect cock, he took me in his hand and pressed my head to his lips, pushing me gently into my mouth and sucking playfully, sliding his tongue along my slit. My hips bucked uncontrollably as he began to pump, slowly at first but increasing his pace until I was moaning breathy little moans and begging him to take me further into his mouth.

I was shivering lightly now, and Mikey smiled around my head, releasing me and pushing my cock into his mouth to my base. His tongue passed teasingly up my length before he slid me out of his mouth, taking me back in much faster and pressing his lips firmly into my erection. I moaned softly, knotting one hand with his hair and using the other to hold myself up as Mikey's teeth rubbed against my shaft and he started to hum, causing the most perfect vibrations to travel up and down my cock.

I gasped his name, bucking my hips again, and he responded to my neediness by increasing his pace again, bobbing his head and sliding me quickly in and out of my mouth. By now, I was not only shuddering and moaning, but very close to my climax.

"Oh, Mikey, I- I'm, please, I...Ohh..." I struggled to get the words out, but his pace was now aggressively fast, and I couldn't help myself to how good he was at this, sending chills and fire through me and making me stutter weakly and moan.

Mikey knew how good he was by my reaction, and he put that to the test, groaning hard onto my cock so what were mere teasing, trembling vibrations before were deep, achingly good vibrations now. And with that last action I was thrown into my climax, moaning his name loudly and pulling his hair lightly, destroying the even thrusts that had been before by thrusting aggressively up. I rode out my orgasm in his mouth before falling back onto my bed and panting hard.

He swallowed my release and climbed up with me, panting slightly himself and snuggling into my chest. I carefully moved his bad arm away and kissed him deeply. He mumbled something I didn't quite catch before burrowing his head into my neck.

"What, kitty?" I asked softly.

He stayed silent a moment before repeating, "I... Its up to you to believe me, but I think I have real feelings for you. Like... I came just now when you did."

I laughed lightly, "You hitting your orgasm at the same time as I did doesn't mean you have real feelings for me, Mikes."

"No, no," he said thoughtfully, "I meant...like... I love you. The way you love me."

I glanced at him, happiness exploding inside me like Mayday fireworks, "Mikey... don't feel like you have to say that... I know you said you'd try but-"

"Jesus, Gerard, I love you. I want you to fuck my brains out and I enjoyed giving you a blowjob. You're deep and sensitive and sarcastic and so stubborn! Stubborn enough to not believe me when I say I love you!"

I laughed again. Deep inside me I was very upset with myself. If Mikey loved me back, it was no longer a sick fantasy on my part. And now that we had gone this far, it was no longer just a problem on my part. It was incest, and both of us could be severely punished if our father, or anyone for that matter, found out.

I felt quite torn. I was utterly infatuated with my brother, and that was something that wouldn't go away. I still hate myself for it, even though now he loved me too and he had performed oral sex for me. Another thought crossed my mind, and because I got distracted easily and I didn't feel like wallowing in self hate at the moment (with a sweaty, cuddly, and adorable Mikey Way on your chest, who would feel like wallowing in self hate?) so I let the thought blossom in my head.

I came to an outstanding outcome. Mikey was beautiful and perfect in every way. He had just given me a blowjob. It was only right I returned the favor. Unfortunately, neither of us was much in the mood to do anything more than snuggle and sleep.

Plan: Wait until it's very inconvenient for him and then decide to get him horny and blow him. Perfect.

Mikey:

I woke up the next day curled into Gerard's chest with my sprained wrist carefully resting on him. I watched him for a bit, he appeared to be dreaming about waffles. Or an animal named Waffles. Or a person named Waffles. I wish my name was Waffles. Well, not really. That'd be pretty awesome. But it isn't a sexy name that rolls of the tongue in the heat of passionate sex. No that I plan to have any of that any time soon...hehe...

I glanced at his clock, which was laying discarded on top of a pile of clothes. He really needed to clean up in here. The glaring neon green digital letters informed me that it was 9:13 AM. I was a bit upset knowing I had spent the night down here, our father would not be pleased if he noticed.

Fortunately, Gee and I were blessed with a kick-ass mom who didn't mind that her two sons were lovers. I'm betting you won't see that often. I was hopeful that she would make up an excuse to cover us, for now at least.

I got up, climbing over Gerard, he didn't even twitch, and heading to the door and up the basement stairs. Mom was upstairs when I got up there, reading a magazine and drinking her coffee in her Saturday robe. When she saw me, she smiled.

"Hey honey, how was last night?" She asked.

Maybe she didn't notice how awkward that sounded, but I sure did. I stared at her a moment, feeling color rise in my cheeks, "Er, w-what do you mean?"

My mom rolled her eyes, "Well you don't have to tell me, but I think I deserve to know after showing such understanding towards you two! At least tell me how far you went, honey. Oh don't worry," She said, catching the worry in my eyes, "Your father left for work three hours ago."

I nodded, "Well we...I sort of... We... Oral sex?"

I made it sound like a question, but my mom only smiled gently and nodded, "Thank you for telling me Michael. Now why don't we pretend you and I never had this conversation so I can put Gerard through the same awkwardness when he wakes his lazy ass up?"

"Alright Mom. You're great."

"I know I am. I do try."


	22. Can you say Awkward?

Gerard:

I stared at my mom. How the hell was I supposed to answer her questions about my brother and my own physical relationship? She had been accepting up until this point, but I don't think any kid wants to spend his time discussing his sex life with his mom.

_Especially when the only sex life you have if with your own brother..._

At least she was okay with it... For now. Would she still be okay with it if Mikey and I... went all the way?

"Come on, Gerard. At least tell me how it was. And who gave." My mom pushed.

I shuddered, "Mom! Seriously? Why are you interested?"

"Because I'm your mother!"

I glared at the floor, an intense mental war being waged in the confines of my mind:

_Tell her! She let you do it in the first place!_

_Why the hell should I? I don't ask her about her love life!_

_Because it nauseates you!_

_True enough._

"Er..." I whispered, thinking quickly, "I plead the fifth."

My mom laughed and shook her head, "You'll have to tell me eventually."

I rolled my eyes and walked out of the room and into the family room. I was surprised at the lack of Mikey, well, I had been surprised to wake up alone, but I wanted to see him. I wandered up the stairs and to my brothers room, knocking softly on the door.

"Come in..."

I opened the door and slipped around it, closing it again behind me. My beautiful brother was sprawled out on his bed, staring at the ceiling. It was a pastime of his, just staring at things. I used to have a problem where I just had to know what he was thinking when he did it, and I would ask him relentlessly until he gave up and told me. Now I just sat down on his bed.

I crawled over to him, sitting down with my back against the headboard of his bed. I gently pulled him into my lap and played with locks of brown hair, staring into his eyes, "You okay?"

The question was unanswered for a long moment before Mikey whispered, "Ya. I'm fine. Gee?"

"Yes Kitty?"

There was another long silence. I wondered what was going through his head. I noticed him shaking lightly, and I leaned down to kiss his forehead. As I straightened up, I noticed he was avoiding my eyes.

"Mikey, baby," I murmured comfortingly, "What is it?"

"W-Will you have s-sex with me?"

I stared at him, totally caught off guard by the question. Did I want to have sex with him? _Ohh, yes. _Did I want to take his virginity? _No, I'm not worthy of that._

Thus I had a predicament on my hands. He was my brother, making it both illegal and morally wrong, but that hasn't stopped me yet. I've had a burning passion for him for a year, and I have longed for him in very sexual ways, including physical love, and now he wanted it too. So why not?

_You can't take his virginity. You can't. _

As much as I wanted him, he needed to lose his virginity to someone who he could love, who was whole and beautiful and could give him babies to love and nurture. Not a broken, mentally-off social reject who could ruin his life, who he could never really love. I felt so torn apart. My instinct was to give into my wants. My goal was to give him what he wants. That were now the same thing, but they were united against a solid belief so strong it seemed impossible to tell which would rein victorious.

Mikey seemed disheartened by my silence. He glanced up at me nervously, squirming slightly, "I... Sorry, Gery. Forget I said anything..."

"No, Mikes, I'm just... I'm thinking. I... I do want to make love to you. You are everything I've wanted in so long. But I do not want to take your virginity." I explained.

"But Gee!" Mikey said suddenly, "I want you to take my virginity! I want you to have it forever!"

I felt my face redden. If only he knew how adorable and sweet he was, "Mikes, your virginity is supposed to go to the person you want to spend your life with, the person who you'll love unconditionally and who can be with you and who you want. I'm just... I'm just Gerard."

Mikey sat up, shifting his position so he was sitting in my lap. He pressed his lips to my ear and whispered, "What if I want to spend my life with, love unconditionally and be with 'just Gerard'? When are you going to realize you are my everything now? I love you and there isn't anything you can do about it. There is no being alive I would rather lose my virginity to."

The words warmed my heart. Despite that, the stupidest words that came to my mind first spilled from my mouth, "Not even Raptor-Jesus?"

"Nope," He said, shaking his head and pressing his face into my neck, "Not even Raptor-Jesus."

"Mikey, dear, the reason I don't want to have sex with you is because you could do so much better than me! There are beautiful men and women in the world you can have as your own, who aren't related to you, some of which can carry your children! I'm not worth it, really."

Suddenly, an evil yet absolutely stunning smile formed on his face, "Mmm, Gee, I think you forgot that I can get whatever I want out of you."

"How's that?"

Mikey shifted himself slightly so he was straddling me and slowly ground his hips against mine, leaning in and sucking and licking my neck teasingly. I whimpered, "O-okay, you've proven your point... now stop it before I get a boner..."

He giggled into my neck, his good hand doing the same thing it had at dinner last night and drawing circles over the bulge in my pants, "Gery... Have sex with me... You know your body wants me... Think of it... You could be inside me... It would feel soo good... I'm tight..."

I was shivering quite hard now, doing everything in my power to hold on to my self control, because once it was gone, the game was over. He was very, very good at being persuasive. I wanted him so very badly, which wasn't at all helped by his body against mine.

"M-Mikey... please... Stop it..."

But he knew very well I loved being teased. Somehow, he slipped one hand under my boxers and was just starting to touch me when a loud knock sounded at the door. Mikey ripped himself away from me, panting softly and falling back onto his bed.

A moment later, Mom shouted through the door about Mikey missing a phone call from Frank. Smirking at me, Mikey stood and walked to his door, casting a glance back at me as he reached it.

"You know Gerard," He said, "I love you to death, but I'm going to win this one. Your body and mine are working against you..."


	23. Caught

A week later-

Mikey:

_Hmm... How to get in my brother's pants..._

Not something a fifteen year old usually dwells on. I knew I could win, I had the potential for it, but Gerard was a smart kid, so he was spending some time with his friends rather than around here. Contrary to being good for him, this gave me time to plot, and an idea, an evil, dirty and seductive idea had formed in my mind.

I just had to plan it right so it seemed like a total accident that he'd see me the way I was wanted him to. He'd be home by tomorrow, anyway, and I could find out what time. I reached out into my pocket and pulled out my cell phone, dialing his number and putting the phone to my ear.

A moment later, he answered, sounding groggy, _"M-Mikey? You okay?"_

"I'm fine, Gee, I was just wondering when you'd be home tomorrow."

"_Uh, probably around noon. Why?"_

Normal, totally awake Gerard would have instantly been suspicious. I was glad he had just woken up, "Just wondering... I miss you..."

"_Aw, don't worry baby, I'll be back soon. I love you so much," _he said. A voice in the background asked him who he was talking to, and he cussed at the person before whispering, _"Shit, Kitty, I have to go. Have a good day, babe, I'll talk to you later."_

"Bye, Gee."

He hung up after that, I wondered who he'd been talking too. I felt slightly nervous that we'd just been caught, but he'd cover us somehow. I was also happy, because I could plan my attack.

Gerard:

"Who were you talking to?" Ray asked curiously.

I didn't answer immediately, I didn't know what to say to him, "Someone..."

"Come on, Gee, you're my best friend, you can tell me!"

I sighed softly, running over what I was going to say before beginning with a simple question, "Er... Promise me you won't tell anyone, Hate me or him, or stop being my friend?"

"Of course. Now what is it?" Ray sat next to me, staring at me.

"Well..." I thought about how to phrase this, "I'm... sort of in a relationship...with... my little brother..."

Ray nodded, "That's what I thought."

"You knew and you made me go through that awwkwardness to tell you!"

"I wasn't sure! It was a theory!" He said, smiling.

"Whatever, Toro, I take it you're fine with that."

He laughed, nodding, "Sure. It's a little weird, but I'm used to weird with friends like you.

When I finally got home the next day, I was wiped. I could hardly keep my eyes open, so I staggered down the stairs, throwing my bag into my room and heading for the shower with my head down. I put one hand on the handle and turned it, pushing the door open and stepping inside.

I was surprised by the amount of steam in the bathroom. That's about when I realized this wasn't right. The door closed and locked behind me, and I turned around quickly to see Mikey leaning against the door, a towel wrapped loosely around his perfect hips and droplets of water dripping down his light skin. I was trying very hard not to get hard, but failing.

Mikey smirked and stepped away from the door and grabbed the neck of my shirt, pulling me down into a rough kiss. I could only feel myself wanting more as he bit down roughly on my bottom lip, forcing a moan from me. He grabbed my hand and pressed it against the skin of his navel, inching it down further. His skin felt so good under my hands, I took over, pulling on the towel until it fell around his ankles.

I pulled away from him to admire his erection, "Oh, Mikey, you're quite large..." 

He nodded and yanked me back towards him so our lips crashed together again. His hands fumbled with the button on my jeans, finally undoing it and viciously pulling down the zipper and then my jeans, followed closely by my boxers.

"M-Mikey, my room, please..."

Neither of us wanted to stop, but I stuck my head out the door, making sure no one was around, and dragged him to my room before slamming the door and locking it. I turned around to see my brother stretched out on my bed, lightly stroking his member and moaning softly with his eyes closed.

I was now painfully hard. I ripped my shirt from my body, advancing on my brother, who was giving me a look of intense lust. I lay down on the bed and pulled him on top of my, our lips engaging once more, our cocks touching lightly and forcing moans from both of us at the friction.

"What do you want me to do to you, Mikey?" I gasped against his lips, I was ready to do absolutely _anything _to him, anything to cause us that perfect and instant pleasure.

Mikey trailed one hand down my back, letting his nails drag along my back as he did, "Make love to me."

"Gladly."

I flipped us over so he was beneath me, reaching over to my desk to search for my condoms and lubricant. Just as I managed to find it, a voice sounded outside our door, a voice both of us identified as our father's.

"Boys, what are you doing?"


End file.
